


Theory of Relativity

by Amydiddle



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU colliding with Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Gen, I really liked this idea, Ignoring P.Fidds warnings that were listed in journal so I can have fluff, Post-Weirdmageddon, Sea Grunkles, Young Stan Twins, happy little stans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 39,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amydiddle/pseuds/Amydiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took them eight months and thirteen days before they had a real incident. Eight months and thirteen days of nothing over the danger level of a long forgotten mythological beast coming after them as they sailed the oceans together. Nothing under the danger level of an angry bar tender then Stanley tried to skip out on paying for their drinks. </p><p>It took them eight months and thirteen days for something like this to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue Lightning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwistedFate101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedFate101/gifts).



> Okay, so what if the old Post-Weridmageddon Stan and Ford accidentally and somehow end up in Relativity Falls and run into their alternate selves, the younger pair? What if they take the Stans to their great aunt and uncle and then Mabel gets freaked out while Dipper rushes down to the lab to do research and basically the two sets of twins bond over monster hunting? There, now we have three sets of twins in one place! :D ~Wonderful Commentor (TwistedFate101)

It took them eight months and thirteen days before they had a real incident. Eight months and thirteen days of nothing over the danger level of a long forgotten mythological beast chasing them as they sailed the oceans together. Nothing under the danger level of an angry bar tender when Stanley tried to skip out on paying for their drinks.

It took them eight months and thirteen days for something like this to happen.

It had seemed like a pretty calm morning when Stanley Pines had woken up, the ocean water barely having any waves upon its surface. The soft waves it did have rocking the boat back and forth in a now familiar and calming way. When he had come up to the main deck he had greeted the sea air with a smile on his worn face. Eight months and thirteen days and he still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

He was actually sailing around the world, chasing down adventures.

“Morning, Stanley.”

Stan turned his attention away from the dark greens of the sea and towards the man sitting on the ship’s deck with his boot covered feet propped up on the rail.

“Morning yourself, Stanford. How are you always up before me?”

Stanford just shrugged his shoulders, going back to the book he had been enjoying the morning light.

“Well, early bird gets the worm and all that.”

“Yeah, but you were never an early bird,” Stan shot back, walking over to his twin and glancing over the words that were on the page his brother was reading in a bored fashion.

“Things change, Stanley.”

Silence hung between them after that statement. It wasn't necessarily a heavy silence, but it wasn’t a comfortable one either. Things still left unsaid hanging between the both of them but both understanding implications of what Ford was saying.

“Well, I’m hungry and you are reading a boring book,” Stanley said, finally cutting the silence between them with a quick movement of his hands so they jostled his twin’s shoulders. The action causing the book to slip out of Stanford’s loose grip and fall closed on the deck of the ship.

“Food is where it always is, Stan,” Ford grumbled, the morning of peace having seemed to die as soon as Stanley got out of bed.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna get it.”

“You are the most childish sixty-two year-old I have ever met,” Ford grumbled, picking up his book and standing up from his chair.

“Not true,” Stan huffed, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face, “You know yourself.”

The glare that Stanford was giving his twin brother had been enough to bring many inter-dimensional beings fear for their lives, but it seemed to have no effect on Stanley F. Pines. The man just smirked at his twin brother with a look that dared him to do something. Stan could see the cogs working in his twin brother’s mind as he glared, he observed how his hands twitched by his side as if ready to pull the trigger to an imaginary gun. They were so caught in their little staring stale-mate that both of them barely recognized the one cloudless sky was suddenly becoming dark.

A sharp wave hitting the boat ended any of the teasing or brotherly bickering that may have occurred. The wave jostling the occupants standing on the ship. Stanley looking up at the sky in confusion, having sworn he had woken up to a nice clear day.

Stanford frantically pushed back his jacket's sleeve to stare at a device that he insisted wasn’t a watch. His eyes widening behind his cracked glasses at what the reading was. As if on cue, the device began to beep and a crack of blue lightning lit the too dark clouds.

“Shit!” Ford muttered under his breath, trying to hurry over to the helm.

Another wave rocked the Stan o’ War II, causing the twins to stumble. Stanford grabbing onto the wheel tightly so he didn't fall the the ground; forcing himself to stay on his feet as he tried to get the boat to turn around.

Stanley grabbed onto the railing, his eyes focused on the swirling mass that the clouds that were flashing above them. The grey was almost black, only change in color occurring when the flashes of blue broke through the mass just before a loud boom of thunder echoed off the sky.

“What the hell is that!?!” He shouted over the thunder, his voice almost carried away by the strong wind that was starting to be picked up. Around the ship the ocean water thrashed aggressively.

“It is a small wormhole!” Stanford cried over the wind, still fighting to turn the ship away from the eye of the unusual storm. “I suspected that one would be opening around here soon, but I hadn’t known it would be so close to us. My calculations said-“

“Wait, you were steering us towards a wormhole this whole time!?!” Stanley broke his eyes away from the blue lightning and stared at his brother in anger and horror. “Damn it, Ford! What is with you and punches through the fabric of the universe!?!”

Ford grit his teeth, fighting uselessly against the strong waves and current that were pulling the ship easily into the darkest parts of the storm. “I didn’t think we would be close when it opened, all the charts read that we would miss it by a good hundred miles! I merely wanted to observe the occurrence from a safe distance, not be in it!”

If Stan had shouted something back at him, Ford did not catch it. The wind and thunder that now surrounded the ship had become the dominant noises around them both. Ford let go of the wheel, finally accepting that turning the Stan o’ War II around would be no use. The better use of his hands wee to cover his ears to prevent damage from occurring because of the loud sounds. 

Stanley seemed to be doing the same thing, his hands having left the railing to cover his ears. He was now seated on the deck as the ship began to rock more violently.

Ford clumsily made it over to his brother, falling down just as he got close to him. Stan taking a hand off his own ear just so he could grab Ford’s jacket and pull him over to him.

 _“We have to get somewhere safe.”_   Stan said, or at least Ford thought he probably said, as he looked over at the door that lead below deck.

Stanford nodded, admitted that below deck may at least help them stay in one piece or, if they were sucked into the hole, that they would stick together. Clumsily, Stanford took a hand off an ear and leveraged himself up with the railing of the boat. Stanley doing the same.

With one ear not muffling the noise they caught the sound of something new mixing in with the howling wind and thunder. Something, that at first, could have been mistaken for the sound of a trickling stream but such a soft sound would not be able to break through the pounding noises. The noise did grow to match the level of the wind and thunder; sounding like the falling water of Niagara Falls. 

The twins shared an identical look of horror, too shocked to move from where they stood exposed on their ship's deck. The next thing that happened was so sudden that both of them doubted they would have made it if they had tried to get below deck.

The bow of the Stan o’ War II tipped first and the rest followed suit as they followed the rest of the ocean into the wormhole to who knew where. Stan and Ford clinging for dear life as they fell with the ship; one of their hands holding tightly to the rail while the other one was clinging to each other.  

* * *

Rain poured outside the window of a small attic room in a peculiar looking shack; lightning streaking every so often across the sky, brightening it. A small hand pressed against the glass as its owner stared out curiously at the sudden downpour. The other free hand letting its thumb nail be bitten.

“Are you going to start watching the rain now?” A voice from one side of the room said, it sounded tired, “Because there is nothing weird about rain. Everywhere in the world rains.”

The owner of the hand that was pressed against the window sighed and turned to face the person who had spoken, the hand that had been letting its thumb be abused moved to fix the glasses back to their proper place on his nose.

“I know there is nothing strange about rain, _normally,_ ” the person said with a roll of his eyes, “But something feels different about this.”

A large crack of almost blue lightning lit up the sky and the person could have sworn that they had seen something falling into the woods in that sudden moment of clarity.

“Well, maybe it is different because it is happening at a time where normal people go to sleep.” The second voice said again, sarcasm written all over the statement.

The person by the window sighed, “Fine. I’ll go to sleep.”

“Thank God,” the voice yawned. A shuffling of blankets coming from its direction as the person who owned it got comfortable in their bed.

The first person rolled their eyes and stared out at the storm for the last time. The strange colored lightning had stopped and the rain seemed to be slowing down. Maybe the other was right and they were over thinking this.

Pulling their hand away from the glass as they moved towards the bed; leaving a six fingered hand print on the glass that seemed to shine like a beacon when the last strike of lightning cracked above the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates Weekly. Enjoy!


	2. Disturbance in the Force

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, the outside world seeming to bask in the after-glow of last night's storm. Mabel Pines smiled out at the sunshine, loving how the morning sun warmed her old fingers. It was this small moment of peace in the morning that made her feel she was young again with no threat of the apocalypse hiding in her hidden basement with her weird twin brother.

The peace of the morning was only shattered by the loud stomping sound of feet running down the old stairs. Her smile shifting from one of peace to mischief hearing the sound as she carefully set her mug of coffee down on the counter and moved so she her back was pressed next to the kitchen doorway; hidden from view.

As soon as the familiar brown curls appeared in the door frame she sprung, wrapping her arms around the two boys that had just entered the room and lifting them up. Both of them yelping at the sudden attack before laughing.

“Grauntie Mabel, let us down!” One of them protested with a grin on his face, his glasses sliding down his nose.

“Or at least me! It is too early for this, I didn't have the proper morning dose of sugar yet!” The other giggled, wiggling in the hold. His sock covered feet kicking weakly.

“Oh, but I worked so hard to catch you,” she pouted before a grin spread on her face, “And I am awfully hungry. Think twins sound delicious.”

Before either of them could stop her she blew a raspberry on their cheeks, making them laugh and struggle more. The desired effect coming out of their weak escape attempts as they slipped to the ground and hurried around the table in the kitchen to ‘hide’ from her.

“Would you know it, you two aren’t as sweet tasting as I thought,” she sighed, “Guess I have to eat cereal instead. Would either of you care for a bowl?”

“As long as it has extra marshmallows!” One of them shouted, grinning as he moved to jump onto an open chair. His sibling doing the same, a smile on his face.

“Alright, three bowls of cereal coming up. Two with extra marshmallows,” She grinned, opening a pantry to grab a box of cereal down and a container holding nothing but colorful marshmallows made for cereal. “Do you want some extra sugary goodness, Stanford?”

The bespectacled boy looked over at his great aunt and shook his head, “No thank you. I am still working off the Mabel Juice from earlier this week.”

Mabel shrugged, “Alright then. More for me and Stanley.”

Stan cheered, a huge grin on his face. His eyes moving to look at twin brother; the grin on his face melting to a small concerned frown.

“You okay, bro? Is this whole staying up late at night just the after effects of Mabel Juice, because I warned you. It is as if coffee and nightmares had baby.”

Stanford shook his head, letting out a small yawn. “I don’t seem to share your sentiments about your Great Aunt's drink, Stan. I feel like it really helped me figure out that one incident a week ago.”

Stan snorted, sending a grateful smile to his aunt when she placed the bowls down in front of them and seated herself down at the table next to them.

“Then what is it, Ford?” Stan probed, sticking a spoonful of milk drenched marshmallows in his mouth.

Stanford swirled his spoon around in his cereal, a frown on his young face. “I just-“

A sudden bang cut off what the boy was about to say, making the family look up. Running footsteps could be heard advancing from the gift shop and towards the kitchen. A voice accompanying it shouting ‘Mabel’ over and over again in an excited tone.

The person shouting the exclamation finally making their appearance in the kitchen, skidding to a stop just as they were about to hit the table. Their hand slamming down some kind of device that was flashing widely.

Mabel took one look at it and sighed, facing her brother, “Good morning to you too, Dipper. Nice of you to finally join us for breakfast.”

“Morning? Is it morning?” The man turned his head and noticed the sunlight streaming through the window. “Would you look at that…” he trailed off for a second, the bags under his eyes indicating the man had stayed up all night.

“Great Uncle Dipper,” Stanford said, catching his elder’s attention, “What is that?” He pointed at the device his great uncle had slammed down on the table.

“Huh? Oh, yes!” Dipper’s confused expression turned into a giant grin, “This, Ford, is something I created before the _‘incident’_.”

Mabel shifted uncomfortably where she sat, spooning some cereal into her mouth. Stanley mimicking her action, his body shifting at the uncomfortable connotation that word held before his eyes locked onto the flashing green lights of the device.

“Okay,” Stan said, poking at it with his spoon, “What is it doing on the breakfast table?” 

Dipper moved the device away from his great nephew's prodding so it wouldn't get milk on it. 

“Well, last night I am sure you two noticed the storm. That storm seemed to directly correlate with a disturbance in our universe that seems to be almost exactly like when the portal was up and running.”

“Really?” Ford said, a grin spreading on his face.

"So," Mabel said, humming to herself, "You could say it sensed a disturbance in the force."

Stan giggled and Ford rolled his eyes. Leave it to their great aunt to make a joke about something like this. Dipper seemed to only nod, his face going grave; he obviously didn't get what his sister had said was meant to be a joke.

"Yes, exactly," Dipper said, the frown on his face making the wrinkles appear deeper and more intense. "Something most likely passed through the rip in the fabric of our universe and there isn't a high chance that is is friendly. 

All four pairs of eyes moved to glance out the window at the sun soaked forest just a few feet from their home knowing it was the hub of most magical anomalies. 

Stan and Mabel moving as one to lift their cereal up to their mouths, chewing it a little too loudly so the sound cut the heavy mood just a little. Stan suddenly stopped chewing and made a face, looking down at his food, "I think I just ate something that was not a marshmallow." 

His comment getting identical looks of disgust from his great aunt and uncle and a muffled laugh from his brother. Mood successfully lifted. 

* * *

The cheery song of birds in the early morning gently settled over everything in the forest of this strange town. It roused the creatures that lived under the canopy of leaves, including the figure of a man lying on the forest floor; a red beanie was stuck in the leaves next to where he was lying face down.

He groaned at the noise, the normally comforting sound, treating it like it was a blaring siren rather then the calming morning song of birds. He lifted his head slowly, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the bleariness.

The action did nothing for his terrible eye sight, the person searching blindly around on the leaf covered ground till he located his glasses and picked them up. An annoyed frown appearing as he looked through the correctional lenses to find smudges of dirt hindering his eyesight.

“Damn dirt,” he grumbled, taking the glasses off as he sat up. He rubbed the glasses on, what he hoped was, a clean spot on his jacket. He froze mid rub when his mind finally clicked that something wasn’t right.

Birds, dirt, the smell of fresh rainfall on the forest; he put his glasses back on and stared wide eyed as a gnome ran into his view. Him and the gnome locked gazes, the forest seeming to go still around them. The creature looked him up and down before hissing and scampering off into the brush.

The man scrambled to his feet just after the gnome disappeared from his sight, beginning to take note of his surroundings. He spotted his beanie lying in the dirt but paid it no mind, memories of what had happened before he had blacked out racing back to him. 

The ship. The wormhole. His brother.

“Stanford?” he shouted, his hands cupped over his mouth to make his voice louder. “Stanford where are you?”


	3. Gnome Problem is Too Small

Stanley looked around the small clearing he found himself in; a dirt covered hand running through his grey hair as he scratched at the foggy memory of what had happened. He knew he had just been with Ford. He knew they had been holding onto each other as they fell with the ship. Somewhere between the descent and the landing they had lost grip on the rail of the Stan o' War II and both of them ended up free falling into the inky blankness with the ocean water. 

Stan's frown deepened as he tried to push away a nagging sense of worry, he was not getting a good picture in his head of when the free falling began and when, if ever, he had lost his grip on his twin. He assumed they hadn’t let go of each other but if that was the case then Ford should have been laying right next to him on the ground in the middle of these woods. 

Ground; that was the next puzzle he had to solve. Both of them had been in the middle of the Northern Atlantic Ocean, no land for miles, and he had woken face first in the mud. What made it stranger was that it wasn’t a random place that he had ended up, he knew those little ankle biter gnomes anywhere. Somehow the wormhole had thrown him into the woods of Gravity Falls; a land locked town that was a good drive away from the Pacific Ocean. Stan was pretty certain that the Pacific and the Atlantic were a good landmass away from each other.

Stanley looked around the area he had landed again, confusion settling in over the worry. He had lived next to his forest for thirty years, he knew the signs of the seasons changing like the back of his hand. When he had glanced at the calendar this morning it had been April. Looking at the trees and feeling the steadily climbing temperature, Stan could only assume that he was currently in late July or early August. 

"What the hell is going on?" Stan mumbled to himself to himself. "Stanford?” He tried calling again, hoping for any kind of response the vaguely sounded like his brother.

The only response he got was the chirping of the birds and the light morning breeze that rustled the trees leaves.

“Damn it, Ford. Where are you? You are supposed to be here to explain all this weird shit.” He huffed under his breath, reaching down to grab his beanie off the forest floor. He shook out the hat to get the larger clumps of mud, twigs, and leaves off before shoving it back onto his head. He saw no use to stick around in the forest, his brother was no where in sight and the things that lived in these particular woods could make sure someone lost would disappear without a trace. He chose a random direction and began walking, hoping it wouldn’t lead him into the den of some crazy Gravity Falls beast and that Ford would be somewhere along that path.

It felt weird walking the forest again. At one point in his life he had almost knew the whole expanse that surrounded the Shack because of time spent searching for Ford’s journals. Those hikes had only showed him the weirdness that his brother had truly found and one time nearly got him killed. It had given him some amazing ideas for attractions as well, a lepricorn was just cheesy enough that people would believe it was fake. 

Stanley glanced around spotting a twisted looking tree that almost resembled a pretzel, a small spark of relief washing over him at the sigh. That tree had been a marking point on a few searches when he had first started the journal search; he carved an arrow in the base of it to point the direction back to the house. Upon closed examination of the tree he found it didn’t have the carved in arrow, the plant was completely unscratched.

The lack of the arrow gave him a weird feeling in his gut and he quickened his pace in the direction he vaguely remembered the old carved arrow to have been pointing to. The total off feeling to this whole situation was unsettling Stanley, making him put on the outward face of stone. His brother was gone, he was alone in the wilderness that seemed familiar but wasn't, and he was partially convinced that the whole forest seemed to be watching him.

A crow cawed above Stanley's head, making him jump and chasing away the paranoid thoughts that had begun to circle him. His stone hard exterior coming back when his heart had slowed to a normal pace. Raising a fist, Stan decided that shouting at the bird was the best course of action.

“Shoo! Get out of here!”

He shook his fist at the large, onyx colored bird. The large crow just cocked its head to the side at the action, its beady black eye twinkling in almost a mocking way at the startled old man below him.

“Beat it, you feathered asshole! Go find some other lost sap in these woods!”

The crow cawed again before spreading its large wings and taking off; the bird flying vaguely in the same direction he had been headed in. Stan taking the time to glare at the retreating speck until it was out of his field of vision before he relaxed slightly. 

“Dumb bird,” he grumbled; shoving his hands into his pockets. He kept his shoulders hunched as he began to walk again, listening carefully for any noise that may indicate an approaching beast that wasn't an another annoyed crow. Though if a crow had come to bother him again he was going to start throwing sticks. 

Stanley was lucky to not cross any paths of crazy things that lived in the woods through the first two hours of his hike. Sadly, he also didn’t run into his brother or see any signs of the wrecked vessel that had carried them into the wormhole. The sun had now moved higher into the sky taking away the pleasant morning coolness and replacing it with the slow and backing heat of the day.

Stan shrugged the jacket off his shoulders, tying the arms around his waist. Wandering aimlessly in the general direction where he thought the Shack would be obviously was getting him nothing besides sore knees and sweat. He needed a plan.

It wasn’t an unknown fact that the Gravity Falls forest was a dangerous place, even more so at night. All the dangerous creatures liked to come out and prowl in the dark, even the less dangerous ones could sometimes be seen lurking about. It may be nearing mid-day but night came quicker when wandering aimlessly lost anywhere, he had learned that lesson fast. Doing nothing but walking surprisingly made time fly faster.

The thought of finding shelter brought his mind immediately to one place; the Mystery Shack. He had been walking in the familiar direction that led to his old home. The problem with wanting to go there was that he didn’t know if whatever place he had landed in even had the Mystery Shack; what if he was in some strange place where the Shack had never even come into being?

Stan's feet stopped moving when he thought of that; his two-hour hike towards the familiar territory could be for nothing. He could just end up at an empty lot or facing a younger Ford who had no idea what he was truly going to discover in Gravity Falls or a Ford just on the brink of being desperate enough to call his brother for help. He could end up knocking on the door and finding a younger version of himself staring back, ready to greet the first wave of tourists or tell who ever had disturbed him to beat it. 

The thought of facing that time in his life again sent a cold shiver down his spine even as sweat was starting to drip down his forehead. If he had somehow traveled back in time or whatever, he really didn't want to face himself. What would even happen if he say himself? Would that stop everything; would he disappear?

“Pull yourself together, Stan,” he said to himself chasing away the intrusive thoughts, “You will just check. Whatever is there will help you decide your nex-“

A shout of alarm broke off his speech of self-motivation, his head snapping towards the noise. Something in him was screaming for him to hurry towards it but he stayed still and listened carefully to the suddenly silent woods; not even a chirp from a bird was to be heard. He had heard many screams coming from these woods over the years and half the time they had led to something that really did not need his assistance at all.  

Another yell echoed through the trees a few seconds later, easily distinguishable now that he was paying better attention to it. It didn’t sound like the banshee that liked to hang around the Shack or anything dangerous, but more like a child. A child that needed help and if this was summer in Gravity Falls then maybe-

His feet moved before he could make up his mind follow the noise, instincts seemingly winning over any form of thinking. The sound of trees falling and the slight shaking the earth only propelled the older man faster to where he believed the cry had come from. With the quick, adrenaline fueled chase he found what he assumed he had been running towards. 

A mass of red and while perusing a small figure. The red and while mass stood almost as tall as the pine trees it surrounded; its pointed red hat making it very distinctly a gnome. A giant gnome.

Stanley skidded to a stop before he could cross paths with the thing and stood there as it passed by him, still in pursuit of the child.  He couldn’t believe his old eyes; in all his years of living in Gravity Falls he had never once seen a gnome of that size. It made no sense, the gnomes back where he had woken up with the normal height of the average varmint. Maybe this was a weird gnome-ruled dimension?

If it turned out to be exactly that he was going to get out of here with or without Ford. Stanley Pines was not going to be ruled by the assholes that liked to route through his trash and steal things from the fridge.

A child's distressed voice broke his musing thoughts of hatred for the gnomes, snapping him back to what he had come this direction for in the first place. His boot covered feet hitting the ground hard once again as he ran after the giant form that was retreating. Stan kept himself hidden in the trees to get the surprise attack on the beast. His foot steps slowing down when he found the creature stopped by a large rock.

“Look! I know I may have done many bad things to your people,” a frantic voice said, obviously trying to negotiate for freedom, “But can’t we put all this behind us?”

“You launched me with a leaf blower!” A small voice shouted from a top the large mass. Stan squinted at the giant gnome and bit back a gasp of shock; upon closer examination of this thing he found it was actually made of the normal sized creatures all stacked together. It wasn't one giant gnome it was many little gnomes together.

The child laughed awkwardly, Stanley could almost tell that this kid was shrugging their shoulders in a nervous manner, “It wasn’t really that bad, was it? I mean, you got to learn how it felt to fly and be taller then most everyone that walks down here.”

The response to the child’s statement showed that the top gnome didn’t agree with their captive’s sentiments. A gnome-made hand moving to crash down on the child's head. Stan moved fast, grabbing a rock from beside him and chucking it straight at the middle of the large formation. The gnomes that created the back of the large gnome didn't seem to have expected a rear attack. 

The giant gnome lost most of its back when the rock hit it; the outer smaller gnomes making up the outer part of the back fell to the ground dizzy or unconscious. The leader gnome on the tip of the hat turning around to look at what had just hurt the formation. Another rock flew out from a different direction and hit the monster's hand hard; causing a few more gnomes to fall.

“We are under attack!” One of the gnomes forming the right foot cried before running off.

Another well chucked rock hit the top gnome, making the small man fall to the ground. The creature barely having time to regain himself and scurry back to his people before his child captive kicked him hard like a ball and sent him flying.

The little gnome flew perfectly so he landed in the trees and tumbled the rest of the way to land at Stanley's boot covered feet. The old man watched the creature move to get up before he grabbed it by its small overalls and hung it on a tree branch.

“That should teach you for chasing down kids in the forests,” he grinned, ignoring the startled look on the gnome’s face. Stan turned his focus back onto the larger mass, ready to chuck more rocks or run into the fray and start punching.

Without their leader, the rest of the formation seemed to crumble. The remaining gnomes shouting about retreat, not being able to function without a leader, and something about fearing the leaf blower.

“Yeah! You better run!” The kid laughed, not seeming scared at all of the fact he was almost crushed by a large mass of gnomes or that some mysterious force had saved him from complete annihilation. 

Stanley chuckled, watching the kid’s back as he shook his fist at the creatures retreating forms. Not Mabel or Dipper, that was easy to see. Stan really wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed that the possibility of traveling back eight months was now less likely a scenario.

He tried not to dwell on it, choosing to focusing all energy on analyzing the hyper child before him to try and get a sense on why the gnomes would be hunting them down. It was a small kid, probably not over Mabel and Dipper’s age. He had brown curly hair that sat messily on his head. A light red t-shirt was paired with faded blue jeans and dirty red converse; an ocean blue sweater was tied around his waist tightly. 

Looking over the boy, Stan was a little relieved that those gnomes hadn't seem to have gotten a scratch on him. No signs of scratches or serious injuries from what he could see, and the way the kid was jumping about gave a good sign that he wasn't hurt at all. 

“And stay out!” The boy shouted, his voice cracking slightly. The sound making Stan chuckled to himself from where he was leaning against a tree, not hidden in the shadows of the forest anymore. 

The sound of the laughter made the kid turn around fast to face the intruder. Upon seeing his face, the question of concern that Stanley was going to ask died in his throat. The only sound the old man could make was a gasp. The only movement he could make was to brace a hand on the tree and let the blood run out of his face so he was as pale as a ghost. This could not be right. 

* * *

The child had thought he was a goner when he ran into the gnomes again. Vaguely in his mind a voice, that sounded a lot like his brother’s, told him that he shouldn’t have been out of the shack in the first place looking for whatever disturbance that arrived last night. Though another voice, more like his own, said that the first had no place to speak since its weird sound origin was currently doing the same, just on the other side of the forest.

The gnomes had gotten in the way of the investigation, having spotted him and gotten mad immediately for no good reason. They began forming their giant gnome without any indication of wanting to do so and began to chase him down when he decided the best course of action was to sprint away as fast as possible. His luck of avoiding them ran out after that as he found himself backed against a large rock with no escape routes in sight. He could only hope that Ford could take care of himself when they got to high school and wouldn't sell the old movie props he had 'borrowed' from their dad's pawn shop in honor of his memory. 

The boy scrunched up his eyes when he saw the red blur that was the giant gnomes fist start its journey to crush him where he stood when the monster suddenly froze and gnomes fell to the ground from the back of the beast. A pause later and a rock hit the hand and more gnomes fell.

The rocks continued to sail from their unknown origin but he could care less. The forest was always mean to him it was nice to see it repaying him for his many successful adventures.

One of the flying rocks finally took down Jeff and giving the kid the chance to kick the evil gnome leader out into the forest. Without the leader the rest began to scatter, leaving him victorious over the army thanks to the mysterious rock throwing force. He laughed threats at the retreating forms of the gnomes and shook his fist at them.

“And stay out!”

The shouted words made his voice crack, but also brought to his attention to a low and kind of gravely chuckle. Turning around fast he readied his fist to fight, brown eyes narrowing as he faced an elderly man leaning against a tree.

The man’s face seemed to pale instantly when he turned around, an effect he wasn’t expecting but he took with great pride. He told his twin he was threatening, sneezing like a kitten be damned. He raised his fists in front of his freckled face and glared at the new person. The older man taking a step back as he looked the child up and down in shock.

“Who are you?” Their words entered the air at the same exact time. Leaving the question hanging for either of them to answer first. They both looked over each other, as if sizing the other up.

The words left their mouths easily, the same name being said by both humans in the woods.

“I’m Stanley Pines.”


	4. I'm Stanley Pines

“I’m Stanley Pines.”

The two voices mixed together, both rough around the edges but one still in the childish tone of pre-puberty. The last name hung in the air like a balloon, taunting the two people that both claimed to share it. The older man's eyes only widened more, his jaw opening before it clicked shut. 

Stanley’s own eyes widened, he was sure his hearing hadn’t been damaged in any way during the chase. His small fists began to lower as he squinted slightly at the older man before him; the motion helping clear out the blurry edges to get a better look at this person that claimed to have the same name as him. Maybe he actually was him? And older him?

He gave the guy a once over, trying his best and failing to hide his confusion and curiosity; the man across from him didn't look too intimidating and he was most likely the mysterious rock throwing force.

The guy had a red beanie on over grey hair that was a little overgrown; brown jacket tied around his waist, and a yellow thing around his torso. Squinting more Stan recognized that 'thing' to be a life vest. A small butterfly of joy filling up in the young boy realizing what this could mean. If this older man said he was an older him then that must mean...

“The Stan o’ War,” he breathed quietly, his eyes locking up on the slightly blurry, older face of the man across from him.

“What?” The man said, shaking his head as if breaking himself from some deep internal monologue that no one else could hear but him.

Stanley dropped the defensive pose entirely, a grin spreading on his freckled face so his braces shined brightly in the daylight slipping through the tree leaves. 

“You are from the future aren’t you?" Stan exclaimed, "Me and my brother found this time traveling thing at the beginning of the summer and you say you are the older me and got a life vest on!” He waved his hand excitedly at the life vest, practically hopping up and down where he stood. “So, obviously me and my bro finally get the boat nice and fixed and we go off sailing! Just like we planned!”

The old man gaped at the small child grinning up at him; at some point during the excited and rushed explanation the boy had found a way to stand right in front of the man. With the new advantage point Stanley could see the man’s face better, more proof that it really had to be him even with the added wrinkles. Same nose, same eye color, the man even had the same eye twitch whenever he was overwhelmed. Seeing that twitch he now knew why Stanford always told him to calm down when it started up; it was a little creepy and very unbecoming on the aging face before him.

“I am making it a mission to never get old now. No way am I going to look like dad and what is with my hair?” Stan said, finishing his up close examination by reaching for the long grey hair poking out of the red beanie. 

The statement seemed to snap the older Stan fully into the reality of the situation; large hands landing on the skinny shoulders of the pre-teen and pushing him back before the small hands could reach up and tug at his hair. Stanley only taking it that he had been in the other Stanley’s personal bubble; he could respect that. Sometimes Ford got all up in his bubble when he got a little to excited about something he did with their Great Uncle or just didn't understand that Stan was having a bad day. He could respect and understand the importance of the Stanley bubble. 

“Okay, hold it kid. There is no way you can be me!” The gruff voice of his future self said, the statement making the younger Stanley frown.

“What?" The kid shot back, placing his hands on his hips, "How come? You said you were me and you look like me in a gross old man way.”

“Yeah, but I never came to Gravity Falls when I was a kid.” The older Stanley said with confidence, a bitter chuckle leaving his body, “Heck, I never left New Jersey.”

The child looked up at the man in confusion, not processing what his supposed future-self had just said. How could this older version not remember the most amazing summer ever? Who could forget the plane ride or his Grauntie Mabel’s Shack or the scary, yet fun, adventures with both of his nerds?

It was his turn to ask 'what' in response to this alternate version’s statement. Little Stanley pushing the large hands off his shoulders as he took another step back.

“But. But you said were me! How could you not remember this amazing summer, if you are me!?!” Stanley shouted at the man, “The adventures, meeting Fiddlenerd, hanging out at the Shack! My first kiss! You have to remember my first kiss, it was with a spider-girl and I don't mean the superhero!”

This wasn’t right, he couldn’t have forgotten all of this summer over the course of the years. He knew when you got older you forgot things but this was ridiculous; there had to be an explanation. If Stanford were there he would probably be able to give a reasonable answer, though it most likely would be some crazy line about an alternate universe.

The thought clicked in both of the both of their minds at the same moment; eyes locking just as the imaginary light bulb lit up brightly in their minds. Both of them moving an accusatory finger to point at the person standing opposite to them. 

“You’re from an alternate universe!” Little Stanley shouted at the same time as his older counterpart was saying loudly, “This is an alternate universe!”

“Oh God,” they both muttered under their breath, running a hand through their hair. The older version stopping when his hand hit the beanie.

Little Stanley took another step back from the older version, a scared look crossing his freckled face. When he had left the house with Ford to look for whatever the disturbance had dropped he had expected finding an object not a person; certainly not himself. What if this alternate version of himself was a bad guy or a pirate or something even worse? He didn't know much about alternate universes or dimensions but seeing how his Great Uncle was after coming out of the portal he could only assume the worst.

Older Stanley leaned against a tree, hand over his face so he seemed to look like he wasn't able to see the child. He needed to think and those identical brown eyes were throwing him off too much; they had so much light it behind them it almost hurt to think that had been him at some point. That he used to see that same amount of excitement reflected to him every day behind think framed glasses. The way this small child talking about his boat and got excited over the thought of sailing around the world hit a sore spot on the old man’s heart even if he was doing exactly that now. The way the child spoke desperately to him to remember things like the summer’s adventures and the shack held so much emotion.

 _“Wait,”_ The older Stan thought to himself, _“The Shack?”_

“Hey! Me, I mean, you,” he groaned, this was confusing, "Kid."

The younger Stan jumped a little, looking ready to bolt. The enthusiasm had died and was now replaced with hesitance and fear; understandable, he did just meet an older version of himself from an alternate dimension.

“What?” The boy’s voice shook as he tried to sound uncaring.

“You said the Shack; you mean the Mystery Shack right?”

The younger version of him nodded, sucking on his bottom lip nervously. How did this version of himself know about the Mystery Shack but not their Great Aunt or his friends?

“Look, I know there is probably someone who told you back at home what not to do if you meet another version of yourself or something, but,” the older Stan kneeled down in front of the kid, “You got to trust me on this one thing. I need to get to the Shack.”

The young Stan hugged his bare arms, looking away from the old man over his shoulder before looking back. He shuffled his feet nervously as he tried to put on a brave face, though years of watching a very similar face do the same had taught the older Stan all the tells that the child was fighting himself internally on who he should trust.

“Why?” the kid asked, it was a fair question. 

“Because," the older Stan answered confidently, "I think whoever back there that told you to be wary of alternate universe people can probably help me get home.”

The younger Stan’s mind immediately went to his Great Uncle, making him wince. Bringing this older alternate version of himself back to the Shack would just prove that had had gone against his Grunkle’s warnings and snuck out to search for the danger. 

Seeing he wasn’t getting through to the kid, older Stan decided to pull out his trump care. Laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder to grounded those frantic thoughts. The sudden contact made the boy jump. 

“They can also can help us understand what is happening and maybe even help me find my Ford.” 

The younger Stan’s eyes widened, small brain already going to the brother that was wandering around somewhere in the relatively safer side of the woods. If this alternate Stan was anything like him, he knew he was probably worried for his missing older twin.

“You have a Ford, too?” The boys asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Another older Ford, he wondered what kind of man his brother could turn out to be. 

“I do," the older Stan nodded, a smirk growing on his face, "and he is a huge nerd who likes to get lost during things like this when I need some science explanation to what is happening."

The joke seemed to work at making the small boy giggle; Stan taking it as a sign to stand up and rest his hands on his hips as he looked down at the child.

“So, nerdiness carries over to all universes huh?” the boy asked, smiling up at the old man.

“Seems so, kiddo. Someone has to balance out our amazing skills,” The elderly man said, ruffling the brown curls on the child’s head. “Now, how’s about helping me out here?”

The smile on the younger Stanley’s face dimmed slightly, his hands going to play with the sweater sleeves tied around his waist.

“I dunno,” Stan muttered, “I kind of snuck out without anyone knowing even after being told not to.”

The older Stan grimaced, hoping that the kid wouldn’t get cold feet because he had gone against whoever was looking after him’s warning. If he was anything like him, though, Stan doubted this child version would back down from a challenge or from helping Ford.

“But,” the boy continued unknowingly; confirming the older Stan's thoughts, “If it will help you find your Ford guess I can take a little bit of scolding.”

“Alright,” the older man grinned, “Knew you would pull through. Just lead the way, squirt.”

The little Stanley made a face at the nickname, “You know, calling me squirt and kid, is like calling yourself that. So come on, squirt!”

With that statement the boy turned around and cackled, the boy disappearing into the bushes quickly. He left a dumbfounded old man in a red beanie to keep up with him, the older male only stopping to take off the life jacket and hang it on a tree in case his brother came this way looking for him.

* * *

The man laying in the middle of the forest floor wasn't ordinary, he was one of the few people that could confidently say that they were used to coming into consciousness after passing out. He had had enough practice while dimension hopping to get his bearings quicker than a normal person should be able to. He smelt the after rain smell of earth, heard birds singing, and felt leaves and muddy dirt under his six fingers from where he laid on the ground.

As quickly as he dared, he pushed himself up off the muddy ground. His hands searching the dirt to find his glasses. Once they were properly wiped off and set back on his nose, he observed his surroundings.

He wasn’t in the middle of the ocean anymore, or free falling through a momentary hole in their universe. He was kneeling on the damp earth in a forest. Not just any forest, it was a forest he had studied well during the duration he was actually in his home dimension.

Clumsily, the scientist got to his feet. Eyes scanning the surrounding area behind his glasses for two things: his brother and the ship.

Movement in the corner of his eye caused him to freeze, stopping his quick sweep of the clearing he had landed in. His hand didn't have time to grab the laser gun that was holstered on his hip before a thunking noise indicated it had been a good time to freeze, his eyes moving towards a tree just a few steps off where a quivering arrow now was embedded in the bark.

Slowly, the man turned to see who had shot at him only to find nothing but a large fallen tree behind him. Swallowing thickly, the man crept over to the obvious hiding spot. His boots barely making a noise on the soft earth.

He quietly peered over the large fallen tree and came face to face with an empty crossbow being clutched tightly by a small, six fingered hand.


	5. Let Parallel Universes Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains minor spoiler to Journal 3. Because some Parallel person's words have to addressed as less then factual in this situation

Stanford registered the six fingers before he recognized the face that stared up at him in fear. His mind moving fast to what a parallel version of his old partner had warned him about. His own six fingered hands getting a white knuckled grip on the fallen tree he was peering over as the soft southern twang echoed in his mind.

_"Seeing your alternate self will cause the entire world to disappear, YOU will cease to exist. I can't allow that to happen, Stanford.”_

“I-I am so sorry!” The small voice of the child said, not aware that any moment both of them would start to fade away and the world around them could crumble. “My finger twitched when I heard something move and I must have put too much pressure on the trigger. I-I didn’t mean to shoot at you!”

 _“Why aren’t we disappearing?”_ Stanford thought; glancing down at his own hands to see if there was any sign of his very being falling apart. Why isn't the world disintegrating around them? Slowly, he looked at the child staring up at him from where he sat on the forest floor. Carefully taking in the boy to see if there were any signs of disappearing.

It was like looking into a mirror to the past; familiar brown eyes behind square framed glasses stared up at him and a curly mop of brown hair stuck up in odd angles. The child wore an old, slightly too big, aviator jacket over a green shirt with what looked to be a cartoon alien on it. Not something Ford remembered ever wearing in his childhood, but he was clearly in an alternate world seeing how it was summer and never in his actual childhood had he come to Gravity Falls.

This was in no doubt another Stanford Filbrick Pines, but it didn’t seem that what the parallel version of Fiddleford had warned him about was actually coming to pass.

“Maybe it had something to do with that wormhole?” Stanford muttered out loud as he moved away from the fallen tree to stand up straighter and survey the surroundings again. The sound of leaves crunching behind him and something falling to the forest floor not bothering him as much as it would have a few minutes ago. The threat level of a younger alternate version of himself was low, more so with the ammo of the child's weapon now stuck in a tree.

“Wormhole?” The small and curious voice of his younger double asked, the boy now standing on Stanford’s side of the log with the cross bow on the ground beside him. “Are you the anomaly my great uncle was talking about?”

“Yes I- ...did you say great uncle?” Ford stopped his mid-speech, to turn to face the boy behind him.

The younger version of him just tilted his head to the side, blinking owlishly at him from behind his glasses. Seeing the same look he gave people when they confused him was a little disturbing to say the least. Though now he got what his brother was talking about when he said he looked like a confused owl half the time.

“Yeah,” the younger boy said slowly, hands twitched by his side before he shoved them into his jacket’s pockets. He looked up at the old man before looking away, “We are staying with him and my great aunt for the summer. He is a scientist and was really weirded out by the storm last night. Said something dangerous may have passed into this world.”

Taking a small step back so his legs hit the fallen tree; the younger Ford let his eyes look every where around him but at the man in front of him.

“You aren’t here to kill us…are you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Stanford said confidently, “I passed through here with my brother on complete accident. We were in the middle of the northern Atlantic Ocean when we suddenly found ourselves in the middle of the wormhole's formation." 

“Well, that would explain the life vest,” the boy said, pointing with a pocket covered hand to Stanford’s middle.

Stanford looked down and nodded. He had forgotten the life vest was on; months at sea made on used to wearing the safety device. A chuckle escaped him as he unclipped it and hung it over his arm.

“Yes, guess that would be the first thing you noticed about a strange man in the woods.”

When Ford looked up the alternate version of him, the child's eyes were wide and locked onto his hands. The kid's own hands slowly making their way out of his pockets.

“Y-you…”

The older Ford looked at him in confusion before it clicked into his head, raising the free hand to show all six of his fingers.

“Guess I should have started with this,” he said, “I haven’t been in a dimension where normal manners and human etiquette were a concern for too long. I am getting better but some things still slip passed me.I blame being out at sea without anyone but my brother for the lack of manners I sometimes have.”

The child said nothing as he slowly walked closer to the older man in front of him. A small hand reaching and grabbing the hand that was held out to him and he began to observe it as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. Ford stood there and let the younger version of himself do it, though it was a little weird. The old man jumped a little when both their hands were pressed palm to palm.

“You’re me, aren’t you?” The smaller Stanford breathed, “You are an alternate me.”

“Yes,” Ford said, pulling his hand away when he started to feel uncomfortable. “In a sense, I am another version of you.”

His younger double dropped his hand, letting it hang at his side instead of hiding it in his pockets like he had been earlier. Going over everything in his head before a grin passed over his face and he fixed his glasses as they started to slide down his face.

“This is amazing! A whole different dimension that has different outcomes and people though some things seem to be set in stone. Like the six fingers or…” His eyes locked onto the life vest, hands grabbing it without asking. “The boat, we got to do it after all didn’t we?”

“Um, well,” Ford scratched the back of his head, “Yes, we did. I am not sure how it is all going to work out in this universe. I never came to Gravity Falls when I was your age. I came years later with a research grant.”

Cogs seemed to be working in this younger versions head, he suddenly gasped and dropped the life vest on the ground. His hands moving fast as he pulled out an old blue journal from his inner jacket pocket and held it up so his alternate version could see it.

“You-  ** _I_**   am the author!?!”

The reaction gave Stanford a sense of déjà vu as he watched the small child have a mini freak out. The old man’s mind starting to think of Dipper upon learning who had written the journals that had plagued and helped him all summer. The thought of Dipper made him look closely at the blue book in the boy’s hands, his eyes widening when he saw the shape of a silver pine tree on the cover.

“Yes I… Dipper was the one who researched Gravity Falls here?”

His younger self nodded his head up and down excitedly, almost throwing his glasses off his face with the force.

“Yes! We came here to stay with our Grauntie Mabel and I found this in the woods. Then it turned out that our great aunt was working the basement for thirty years to bring our great uncle back. That happened about two weeks ago...maybe? I haven't really been paying that close of attention to the calendar but the situation didn't call for checking the date when THE AUTHOR steps out of the glowing portal and you learn he is your relative! To be truthful I haven't really paid attention to the date since our birthday passed in June." 

Ford grimaced a little, he didn’t like the thought of his niblings going through what he had Stanley had. The fights, the lack of communication, and then thirty years in their own individual hells. The action had thankfully gone unnoticed by the hyperactive child, he couldn't remember having this much energy in his youth. That had always been Stanley, his twin brother always was the one bouncing around the place like a rabbit on a sugar high.

“I am sure Great Uncle Dipper can help you get home or at least both of you combined can figure something out. You both have witnessed inter-dimensional travel before so I can't see how you wouldn't be able to sort this out."

The questions Ford wanted to ask about the alternate version of his great niece and nephew were held back. This child wasn’t the person to ask about what had happened to this world’s Dipper and Mabel. If anything, maybe they had a better life and outcome then Stan and him. Maybe Mabel and Dipper stuck together until an accident happened. Who could really tell? There was no use thinking on the worst possible outcomes especially to a Dipper and Mabel he didn't actually know. 

“Yes, if he would be willing to help,” Ford said, cutting off the hero worship. 

The younger Stanford nodded, fixing his glasses back onto their proper place on his face before he turned around and grabbed his cross bow.

“I am sure he would be, at least Grauntie Mabel wouldn’t allow me to leave you out here in the woods without offering help,” he boy stated, pulling himself over the fallen tree to lead the alternate version of himself back in the direction he had most likely been traveling from. 

Stanford watched the retreating form of his own back before looking down at his hands. Still no sign of disappearing off the face of the existence. Maybe the world that the alternate Fiddleford had gone to had been unstable or that parallel world had just been very unstable itself to cause such a reaction. Maybe it had been a freak accident on its own. 

Taking one last look around the place where he had landed, Ford sighed and made a decision before he began to follow the quickly retreating child. Once he had a permanent place to stay he would begin the search for Stanley and for a way to get them home. 

* * *

The older woman sat in her easy chair, knitting needles clicking to fill the silence around her. It was uncommon now days when the house had quieted down enough for her to find time for herself when business was slow. She let that very thought pass though her mind before she froze mid-stitch. 

 _"The house should not be quiet right now,"_ the thought said, loud and proud at the front of her mind.

She tilted her head to the side and rested the partially knitted sweater in her lap. In an old place like this she could usually hear the creaks and sounds that indicated that her great nephews were moving about somewhere in the house. There were no such noises now.

“Stanford? Stanley?” She called, standing up from her chair to go find the pair. Her current project getting set aside on the dinosaur skull she used as a side table.

No response to her call sent the feeling of dread into her gut as she moved into the entrance and looked up the stair well.

“Boys?”

The lack of response pulled her up the stairs to their room for the summer. She knocked before opening the door to find an empty room.

“They wouldn’t,” she muttered, checking the closet and under the beds where they could have been hiding. Movement outside the triangle shaped window caught her attention. Moving towards the glass she looked down at the yard to see one of her great nephews stumble out of the woods and turn around to talk to some unseen person.

“Oh what have you two gotten into now?" She said with a sigh before she turned and made her way out of the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! Update schedule is changing from just Wednesdays to:
> 
> Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. 
> 
> You get three chapters in the span of a work week until the story is completed! Woo~


	6. Looking Through a Fun-House Mirror

“So you have really traveled to every state in the country?” Stanley asked once the older version behind him had finished the ‘brief’ account of what his life had been like up to that point. The thought of traveling around the country was amazing to him, it had been enough of an adventure flying to Oregon from New Jersey. From what he heard his older counterpart saying, he got the impression that not everything was told but the thought of traveling still excited him. 

“Yep,” Stan said, smirking when the younger version of himself turned his head to look at him with wide eyes. Even if this whole situation was weird it was nice to have someone get excited over his stories. “Though I never went to Alaska or Hawaii. Did travel out of country, though. On a side note from that, never got to Columbia. Not as great of a place as you may think.”

The child gave the older man a confused look, a question he wanted to ask being cut off when he tripped on a branch he hadn’t seen. Stanley luckily caught his balance before he could tumble face first into the grass covered dirt, a little shaken from the almost fall. Looking up, Stanley’s face brightened and he turned around fast to address his older double.

“Here we are, home sweet home," he said, giving a dramatic pose to show off the Shack.

Stan stopped just in the tree line and looked up at 'his' Shack. He could almost immediately spot the signs that his great niece was probably part of the decorating crew. The sign on top was still missing an S, but was in bright pink and purple and glittered in the summer sun. The totem pole didn’t have the normal beaver and eagle, instead it had what he assumed was a faded unicorn and a jackalope.

They had exited the woods near the gift shops entrance and exit. Stan could see the old streamers taped around the door way and one-too-many wind chimes hung up around the shop. The Shack, overall, looked almost the same besides that. Things seemed a little more ‘mabel-fied’ but it was still home and still brought peace to the still freaking out part of his mind. 

“So, your great aunt you were vaguely talking about while we were walking,” Stan began, tearing his eyes away from the Shack to look at his younger self. “She wouldn’t be-“

“Stanley Filbrick Pines!” The voice that cut him off sounded angry, though it almost didn't fully fit right with that tone. The child froze where he stood, his smile dropping instantly hearing his name said in such ways.

The reaction the older man gave was practically identical, though he wasn’t sure why he reacted that way to the angry way his name was said. He was a fully grown man now and had done nothing to unleash the wrath of the woman who had just exited the gift shop.

The woman who wore a fez over grey curls. The fez that was pink and had a bedazzled shooting star on it. The shooting star that represented his Mabel on the dumb zodiac that could have been used to banish Bill.

Slowly, young Stanley turned around to face the woman that was moving towards him; a plastered fake grin stretching his freckled face.

“Grauntie Mabel, what’s up?”

“Stanley, you know you weren’t supposed to go running off. Dipper said that there was an anomaly that had fallen somewhere in these woods and if you got hurt…”

All the anger that was in Mabel seemed to fade away instantly now that she was directly in front of her great nephew. Under her powder blue sweater her shoulders seemed to sag with the weight of the world.

“I’m fine though,” young Stanley insisted, his fake grin turning into a small reassuring smile. “Nothing dangerous fell through the wormhole, trust me.”

He grabbed his great aunt’s hand, grinning up at her brightly. She took one look into his bright eyes and seemed to cave in quickly, a chuckle escaping her.

“Well, when you put up such an argument and make that face, I don’t see how I can’t trust you.” Mabel smiled, tapping his nose, “Besides, you can lie anymore that will just get bigger.”

Stanley scrunched up his nose at the touch, rubbing it to get rid of the feeling. “Will not,” he pouted.

The older Stan watched the interaction, feeling like he was looking through a fun house mirror. In his life span he knew he was never supposed to see Mabel at that age. She looked good, all things considered. Her hair was still in the darker grey spectrum, she wore cat-eye glasses that he just knew she adored, she was still knitted crazy sweaters like the one that she was wearing that read ‘Born to be Wild’ in pink letters, and she still seemed to have that wonderful look on life from what he could tell from the outward appearance of the Shack.

“Where is your broth-“ Mabel’s unfinished question caught Stan’s attention and caused the older man look at her directly to see her eyes on him. 

The child that stood between them seemed to be done pouting about his nose and was looking between them, a giddy look on his face. He reached and grabbed his older self’s hand, pulling him out of the forest completely so he was standing directly in front of Mabel.

“So," the boy began, bouncing on his heels, "Meet Stanley also known as an alternate me! Isn't this amazing! Now there are TWO of me and this time I can say it without having to dress Ford in my clothes or having to glue mirrors all over the house!”

The excited statement didn’t get a response from either of the older people he was standing next to, the grin he had plastered on his face dimming with every passing moment they just stared. He was pretty sure there was supposed to be either a sound of quiet him or encouraging words being said. Not silence. Silence never meant good things, unless they were on a monster hunt then silence was good because nothing was chasing them.

Mabel was the one to break the gaze to look at her Stanley before looking back at the alternate version. She did this about three more time before she seemed satisfied with what she was going to say.

“Why are you so old?”

“I could say the same to you, Mabel,” Stan said, trying to pull off the look that he didn’t care much for this situation instead of extreme internal panic. 

“M-me!” Mabel gasped, “Stanley Pines, I would assume you were raised to never ask a lady her age.”

Stan shrugged, “Yeah, but to be honest my parents weren’t the best role models.”

“So, some things stay consistent then, I guess.”

“Yep,” Mabel confirmed.

The child between them had been watching their banter like a tennis match, head snapping between them whenever either of them said a line. Neither Mabel or Stan broke eye contact through the whole exchange. Both of them going silent and only staring for a couple more seconds before their concentration was thrown off.

“Grauntie Mabel! Great Uncle Dipper!” A voice shouted from the other side of the yard, a boy falling out of the woods a moment after it; the cross bow he had been carrying hitting the ground. Thankfully the weapon was empty because the direction it was pointed it would have shot near one of the Stanleys and neither of them wanted to be impaled by an arrow.

A tall figure of an older man came out of the woods after the boy and helped the child to his feet. Upon sight of the person, the older Stan’s face stretched into a grin.

“Ford!”

The shout of the name made both the child and the man look up. The older Ford leaving his alternate self where he stood and crossed the distance to get to his twin.

“Where were you, Stanley? I woke up and you weren’t anywhere near me.”

“Could say the same to you, Poindexter,” Stan shot back, laughter already bubbling up in his chest. A fear he hadn’t realized was there suddenly disappearing in his mind. Ford was safe and they were in a relatively safe place. In this situation, Stanford seemed to be the only think that made some kind of sense. 

Mabel and the younger Stan stared at the Ford with wide eyes. The young Stanley being the only one that found the courage to voice what was on his mind.

“Why did he get to age well! He looks like an action sci-fi movie man!" Stanley threw his hands up into the air, walking away from the group of adults, “That is it! I quit life!”

Both the older Stan twins looked at each other, Ford trying to hold back his laughter at the outburst and Stan trying to not look like he was getting embarrassed for what his younger self had just said. The younger Ford moving to catch up with his brother, probably to convince him that alternate worlds meant that there was a chance things could turn out different for them. 

Clapping her hands, Mabel caught both set of Stan twins’ attention. A confident, and a little fake, smile on her face as she looked at the four of them.

“As much as I would like an explanation now, I think we better move this inside and get my brother. I have a feeling this is not going to be an easy of a day as I thought it was going to be.”

* * *

When he opened the hidden entrance to the basement, he was not expecting to see the place empty. It was almost strange to not have the twins out there or one of their friends hanging around even if the Shack was closed to patrons. The sound of voices getting closer from outside the door made him frown more in concern. As certain as he was the few wards carved into the house would protect it, he still didn't think it was safe to go out there until the anomaly was found and disposed of.

The door opened and he prepared to voice his concern to his sister and great nephews only to have it die on his tongue. His sister walked in followed by his great nephews and two older men. Two identical older men that shared a great resemblance to the two children staring at him. 

"Well," one of his nephews said, a chuckle escaping the child's mouth, "Least we don't have to go down there to fetch you." 


	7. Wormhole Theory

Dipper Pines had been to many dimensions on his travels through the portal. Some were hostile, some were strange, some were beautiful, and some were just plain indescribable. Then there were the few that resembled home in some strange way; those dimensions that simply had been off in a few things. Those dimensions that already had a Dipper, safe or unaware of the dangers that lurked close by.

He was pretty sure the last one he visited he had been warned that if an alternate-self met the other then that person would disappear and the dimension would begin to cave in on itself. So there should be no possibly way for there to be two sets of great nephews sitting in his lab right now. How could the older set be sitting there and not destroying the universe?

The one that introduced himself to be Stanley seemed to squirm under his stare, glancing away every time their eyes accidentally met. He seemed uncomfortable seeing Dipper; but why? Next to the alternate Stanley sat Stanford. The man hadn’t broken his gaze at all since they had gone down there. There was something in that man’s eyes that seemed to reflect that they were both thinking along the same lines. That they had both, in some way, had seen the same things.

“Will you stop staring them down, Dipper.” Mabel’s voice broke the staring, everyone turned their heads to look at the older woman standing there. “We have tested this, you can't read minds no matter how much you think you can. That plant only made you high.”

“Mabel,” Dipper said, a wide-eyed look on his face, “In all laws of the multi-universe theory and from what I have learned there is no way they should be able to exist in the same space as our Stanley and Stanford. If they really are who they claim to be.”

The two children in question looked up when their names were said, Stan’s head popping out of the ocean blue sweater he been pulling on; a little boat now visible on the front of the garment. The younger twins had somehow weaseled their way down into the basement to witness the little interview their great aunt and uncle were going to have with their alternate selves. Dipper suspected that Dan really hadn't tried to stop them from entering the vending machine's door like he was supposed to, most likely when they went back upstairs there would be lack of teenage worker and the closed sign on the door to the Gift Shop.

“I can assure you, I have thought the same thing,” the alternate Stanford said as he stood up from his seat. “This universe and both of us should have disappeared upon contact with our alternate selves, but for some strange reason it did not.”

“Disappear?” The younger Ford questioned, looking between himself and his Great Uncle.

“Yes,” Dipper and Stanford said at the same time. They looked at each other, both glancing over the other man as if asking silently who would explain it to the child. Stanford seemed to deem himself worthy enough to explain the situation to his younger self before Dipper could begin.

“You see, according to a parallel version of my research partner if one sees their parallel selves the world and those two people would disappear.”

“But,” Dipper interjected, “We can obviously see that is not what is happening now. We still exist and they are in the same room as you.”

Dipper took the worn out hat off his head to scratch his scalp, how this could possibly be was alluding him. This had not been his field in college, he had jumped around in majors and subjects to pick up pieces that would help him study the paranormal entities spotted all over the world. Gravity Falls was going to be his big break when he had arrived but things hadn't panned out that way. 

“I have a theory for this,” Stanford said, turning to look at the adults in the room. The statement brought Dipper out of his musings to find an answer, curiosity lighting his eyes.

“Of course you do, Ford,” the older Stan grumbled though there was a hint of a smile on his face. The grumbled remark earned a giggle from the two kids sitting on the side lines, the smaller Stan in particular finding it funny. The younger Ford tried to act hurt that his older self got such ridicule but it was hard, no wonder their aunt found them so amusing. 

Stanford ignored his brother, going straight into his explanation like the other man hadn't even spoken.

“How we got here was a brief, yet natural, tear between dimensions. It is a weak force, usually occurring only when two dimensions get a little too close to one another. Usually they go unnoticed without much disturbance to either dimension involved. If anything only a few creatures are pulled through or some sort of loose element and into the world that had been travelling to close to the other. Stanley and I were near the wormhole when it began to form, thus getting sucked in with the ocean around us with our ship.

"The ship seems to not have made it through the wormhole with us. It is probably one of those occurrences where some things just have too much mass to get through the inter-dimensional rift. We had fallen off the ship before it could finish the loop and return to our world, thus the wormhole closed leaving us here. Since it closed before we came in contact with ourselves it may have stabilized both dimensions so none of the world ending matters occurred.”

The room fell silent as the older Stanford finished his theory, the man beaming as he looked at each of the faces. His own twin and the alternate Stanley looked confused as if trying to figure out the fast paced words that had come out of the the man's mouth.

Stanford’s alternate-self’s eyes were wide behind his glasses having seemed to take in all the man had said better than his twin had. Dipper was nodding his head as he placed the hat back over the dark grey curls.

“Makes sense,” Dipper said, "Wormholes and punched holes that are weak or unstable do have a tendency to be picky on what goes through and what does not. I remember one such hole that spit me out on a very flat world but didn't allow me to take the animal companion I had met in the last dimension. It was too bad as it could have really helped me defend my base."

“There is one thing I don’t understand,” Mabel said before her brother could start getting into detail about that event, “How did you end up here if you were in the middle of the ocean?”

Stanford opened his mouth to answer but, surprisingly, the younger Ford cut him off.

“Gravity Falls natural law of weirdness magnetism,” the child said confidently before shrinking a little when the adults turned to look at him, “This place just attracts the strange and it makes sense a dimensional hole would open up just above this town. It almost makes less sense for it to open anywhere else besides other weirdness hot spots.”

"Exactly Ford," Dipper said, beaming down at his great nephew. "And if what he said about that wormhole being a natural occurrence then I am sure some things in the Gravity Falls woods may be from other dimensions and acclimatized over time. That would explain some of the strange powers some of them possess."

The older Ford nodded, slightly interested on how his younger self even knew about that theory. 

“Alright, new question then,” the older Stan asked, bringing attention to himself. “How are we going to get back home?”

Everyone got silent, the new question hanging over their heads like a thundering storm cloud; killing the small joy of knowing what was going on. The older Stanford and Dipper glancing at each other as if asking the same question themselves. No one seemed to have the answer to this, the only logical thing would be the wormhole but by now the opening they had traveled through had sealed itself. 

The younger Ford stood up from where he was sitting on the floor next to his brother and cautiously walked over to the older Stan. Hesitantly he put his hand on the man’s knee, a little smile on his face.

“Hey, I’m sure together my great uncle and your Ford can figure out how to get you both home.”

The action seemed to surprise the older Stan, the man staring at the child in shock before a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Thanks, Sixer," he said kindly, ruffling the child's hair.

The boy’s twin stood up fast, ready to join in with the encouragement to break the heavy air. He wasn't going to be out-encouraged by this nerdy twin brother. 

"Yeah!” He shouted, running over and crashing into the older Ford’s back so he could hug the man tightly, “And until then both of you can hang with us! It will be like a sleepover only with double the fun because there is two of me!" 

The scientist stumbled at the force of the child hitting his back, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. He looked down at the bright eyes of the younger version of his brother and felt heaviness lift a little at the child’s optimism about this situation. The goofy, braces filled smile seeming to melt the fear of uncertainty. Carefully, Ford returned the hug with a hand placed gently on the child's back. 

“Well,” Mabel said, a genuine smile growing on her face, “Guess I have to figure out nicknames for all of you. I don’t think I can deal with the confusion of two Stans and Fords.”

“I’ll get started on figuring this out, maybe if I can locate where the wormhole opened on your world in ours I can see if it also is an occurrence in this dimension and maybe calculate when another shall open,” Dipper chimed in, a little smile on his face.

The younger Stanley changed his grip as the older Stanford started to move toward's Dipper, the little arms and legs wrapping around the man's  left leg so he had to drag it when he tried to walk. 

“I can help you, upon seeing a map I am sure I can pinpoint the general area where it opens,” Ford said.

Dipper nodded, moving to search the lab for the maps he had stored. A yelp escaping him when his sister caught his arm to stop him. The older man turning to look at his twin with a confused look.

“Not until I get some food in you, Dipper Pines. You didn’t eat this morning or yesterday,” the woman said, dragging the older man towards the elevator. “Come along you four, it is lunch time and I am sure two of you haven’t eaten in awhile.”

The older Stan seemed pleased with this, remembering his Mabel’s cooking skills. If you got passed the glitter everything was pretty well made.

“Well, that is all I need to hear. I didn’t get to eat before I was sucked into an inter-dimensional vortex,” he said as he stood up, he didn't think twice before lifting the smaller Ford up. The child caught his glasses before they could fall fully off his nose, being carried like a football hadn't been his intention when cheering up this older form of his brother. He internally hoped that his twin never surpassed him in height as they entered the elevator. 

The older Stanford looked down at the child clinging tightly to his leg, a grey eyebrow quirking up at the smiling face below him. "Are you going to make me walk all the way to the other side of the room like this, Stanley?" 

"Yep."

* * *

He had been right to assume that the food he was going to receive would be good. His great niece's cooking skills would only improve with age, but it also seemed to make her more possessive of her work space. Every time he tried to help he would get a "Stanley, go sit down." or "I could have got that without help." When the afternoon waffles were done, though, they were delicious and had a surprising lack of glitter. 

He ate his large stack happily, getting into a mini race with his alternate self. Both of them attempting to finish eating their stack before the other. In the end both the Fords who won, both of them sharing a smug look between each other at their respective brother's pouting face. 

"Alright," Mabel said, between passing out a second helping of waffles to anyone that wanted some, "I think I have decided." 

"Decided on what?" Dipper asked, mouth half-way full of the breakfast food. 

"On who is who," she said, setting the serving plate in the middle of the table. "My Stanley is going to be called Lee, and the other is Stan. The two Ford's were a little trickier but I just decided to call one Stanford and the other Ford, depending on who wants what. I did consider F or Ford 2 but I those were taken before you both arrived here." 

Lee smiled with a mouth full of pancakes, seeming to accept this decision. Stan nodded his head in agreement to this, stabbing the last of his waffle stack with his fork. The two remaining halves of the twin sets looked at each other, as if asking telepathically which one would prefer to be referred to by their full name. 

"Could always call them Nerd 1 and Nerd 2," Lee piped up, yelping when his twin brother pushed him off his seat. Stan laughing at the action before choking on the waffle he had been chewing on. 

"I'll go by Stanford," the older one said, taking the liberty to choose for them. A hand going up and patting his twin's back to ease the coughing. 

"Alright," Mabel grinned, "Then with that settled and your stomachs full, I wont be too mad if you and my brother go hide away in the basement for the rest of the day." 

The words had barely left her lips before Stanford and Dipper shot up from their seats and ran towards the basement entrance. 

"But you better come up for dinner!" She shouted after them before sighing. "Scientists," she muttered, rolling her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we go:  
> -GF: Stan and Stanford.  
> -RF: Lee and Ford. 
> 
> Coming up with distinctions between Stanford and Stanford was difficult but Ford and Ford 2 wouldn't fly that well with either of them much, I don't think. If anything, I enjoy writing out the name Stanford more then writing out Ford. Is that weird?


	8. A Rift Between Worlds

The maps were taped across blinking machines, each with their own individual circle on them in the same spot on the Atlantic Ocean. The only differences between the maps was the fact that they were each a slowly getting more detailed and closer to a certain area. After Stanford and Dipper had narrowed down their search for the origin spot of the alternate twins’ wormhole they had begun investigating. Old books getting pulled off shelves and flipped through.

Stanford glanced at the note pad he was using as he jotted down information that could relate to his wormhole. On the top of the page read the date that it had been when they had fallen through, and the current date of the world he was in. The difference was significant in the fact that eight months of traveling had gone back. He was now back in the beginning of August before Weirdmageddeon-

Stanford dropped the pen as the thought went through his mind, feet moving fast towards the sheet on the far end of this room. Dipper had looked up at the noise, but the other scientist ignored him.

The six fingered hand reached up and pulled the sheet down before the man behind him could stop him, revealing that behind the glass was a mostly dismantled portal. Same in almost every detail minus the scattered pieces that laid far apart from each other waiting to be torn apart. Dread began to seep into the man's gut as he stared at the scene; this was the thing that had been hoping wasn't there. He had seen the portal in this stage of deconstruction, this was the state it had been in when he had found the rift.

Dipper’s hand landing on his shoulder made the Stanford jump and spin around fast to face him. He didn’t even let Dipper speak before he grabbed the man’s shoulders and looked at him desperately.

“The rift, where is the rift?”

Dipper’s face went from concerned to guarded fast, the man knocking the hands off his shoulders.

“What do you want with that?”

“Dipper, please. My world has dealt with this already,” Ford pleased, looking at him behind his glasses, “The rift is unstable and the containment unit you are probably using isn’t strong enough to hold it. Eventually it will crack and Bill will be unleased onto your world and if it plays out like it did in mine your sister will-“

The click of a gun stopped his words, Dipper having pulled out his gun and pointing it at Ford’s face.

“Glasses off,” was the simple words that Dipper said, a cold and unfeeling tone making it known that it was an order.

Carefully and slowly the glasses left Ford’s face. The older man unknowingly getting rid of a glare and showing that his eyes weren’t glowing yellow. Dipper relaxed and hid his gun from view after that before he ran his hand down his own face with a heavy sigh.

“Will it really be unleased?” Dipper asked, in a defeated tone.

Stanford could only bring himself to nod, “Eventually, I would think so. The way things have to play out if this is just an alternate world in which ages and roles have switched.”

Dipper nodded, turning his back to the alternate form of his great nephew and reaching into a compartment to pull out the sphere that contained the rip in the universe. The cosmic material moving around innocently inside its prison.

“Looks like I have to find a way to safely dispose of it before then,” Dipper mumbled, watching the insides move about before looking at Stanford. “After I get you and your brother home. It would be best to get you back to where you belong before I attempt such a feat or the end times really do appear.”

“I do believe that preventing this world’s take over maybe a little more important,” Stanford protested, the back of his mind weirdly wondering if this was an alternate form of bill strictly bound to this dimension or if Stanley had stopped the events from happening on this world through their action of destroying his mind.

“No, this problem can wait. I haven’t fully figured out how to dispose of the Rift and for now the containment unit is stable.” Dipper shook his head as he said the words, carefully hiding the rift away again.

“This wormhole travel is the current problem that needs to be solved,” Dipper continued.

Stanford sighed, the panic he had felt lingering in his gut but not as brightly. He had to remind himself that this was no his world, that these people would have to fight this threat on their own, and that the threat was already over for his world. There was no use getting worked up over a problem that he knew how to, had, and could help fix if the end times began here.

“Now,” Dipper said, breaking Stanford from his thoughts and dragging the man back to the current issue they had been finding with the wormhole. “Back to that discussion on how we may have to wait out eight months for it to do it again. I am finding fault with the fact that it could be any universe, not just yours bumping into this one.”

Stanford sighed, forcefully tearing himself from the looming danger of his possible enemy showing up again to haunt him. Carefully he moved over, grabbing his notebook to compare notes with his companion. “I see what you mean, plus that would suggest me and Stanley having to stay here eight months before we could attempt a very slim chance of that wormhole being the exact same link to our home.”

Dipper nodded, biting on his pen. “Exactly, so the only option left is to create something that could help you and your twin back to your open dimension somehow.”

Both of their eyes drifted over to the inactive portal before they looked at each other’s.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Dipper asked, setting down his pen.

“If you are thinking about reverse-engineering the portal and looking over those old blue-prints may unlock something about how to safely travel between worlds?" Stanford asked, a light coming back into his eyes. 

Both their feet were already moving fast into the portal room, hands grabbing random tools that had been left near the door. Stanford getting a small zing of satisfaction knowing he was going to dismantle the portal again for the second time in his life. It had been satisfying the first time but one could rarely have enough of a good thing.

* * *

Stan sat on the plus recliner in the T.V. room, Ford leaning against his legs with his nose in a book and Lee laying with his pet goat on the carpeted floor. Upon investigation of the channels that the T.V. showed he found most of the Gravity Falls public stations showed the same things back in his world. Somethings just couldn’t change across worlds, he guessed.

He stared at the screen blankly, the commercials cutting off the random, lame horror movie that was playing. He was pretty certain that where they had placed a commercial had not been a spot made for the advertisements. All three of them broke their attention away from their individual forms of entertainment when Mabel walked into the room, the action making her freeze in the doorway.

“Boys, I know I am beautiful but there is no need to stare,” She teased.

The words earned half-hearted disgusted noises from her nephews and a chuckle from Stan.  She grinned at the laugh, “Glad you enjoyed there, because there is more where that came room. Mind if I borrow you a second?”

“Don’t know,” Stan said, looking down at the child that was sitting at his feet, “Ford here seems quite content with using my legs as a resting place for his back.”

The child’s face grew red as he mumbled a small apology and moved away. It just seemed natural to sit like that, having grown used to doing it when his great aunt sat there.

“Don’t sweat it,” Stan said, standing up and stretching, “I’ll be back quick, so neither of you munchkins better no steal my seat.”

Lee sat up from where he was laying on the floor, a grin on his face that practically shouted danger, “Well, now I got to do it.”

Stan narrowed his eyes at his counterpart before following Mabel out of the room and towards a familiar door.

“Thought you could use a place to sleep that isn’t infested with two thirteen-year-old boys,” she joked, pushing the door open to reveal a study.

It was cleaner than the one at the Mystery Shack back on his world. A bed was already made on one side of the room, which was different then his though the couch on the other side under a stain glass window was the same and brought back painful nights of fresh burns and utter hopelessness.

Stan glanced at Mabel from the corner of his eyes, wondering if she had gone through the same things he had. She had seemed to have taken his role as terrible businessman and relative. The question was dying to escape his tongue but he pushed it down, plastering a smile on his face that even faked himself sometimes.

“Looks cozy enough, though I am half certain that Stanford won’t be sharing this space with me much.”

Mabel chuckled, not looking at the smile, “Very true. This is supposed to be Dipper’s room but he rarely comes upstairs if I don’t go fetch him for meals. I had a cot moved down there for him to take naps on just so he doesn’t have to sleep on the stone floor.”

Stan shook his head, “It is like their nerdiness doesn’t let them appreciate the glory that is sleep.”

Mabel nodded, a solemn expression on her face, “Yep. Good thing we are here to drag them back upstairs when we think they have been working too long.”

“Yep.”

Silence settled between them, neither sure how to continue the conversation. It was Mabel who broke the silence with a clap of her hands and a drawn out ‘sooooo.’ The action made Stan look at her directly.

“I’ll let you be on your way, just wanted to make sure you knew where you were sleeping for a while.”

She turned and headed for the door, stopping when Stan grabbed her hand. There was a kind smile on his worn face.

“Thank you, Mabel.” Letting go of her hand he started back down the hall, “Now if you excuse me, I have some kids to sit on for stealing my seat.”


	9. The First Night

Neither Stanford or Dipper had shown up to dinner like Mabel had wanted them to. The boys seemed to take it as a let down, Lee going as far as suggesting he go down and take all their science stuff while they were sleeping to punish them. His brother had talked him out of it since all that 'science stuff' was needed to figure out how to get the older twins home. 

Now night had settled over Gravity Falls, the forest making its strange noises as nocturnal creatures began to come out of their hiding places. The twins had been chased out of the T.V. room about half an hour ago to go brush their teeth and Stan now found himself in the spare room in borrowed clothing that didn't really fit all that well. It seemed alternate Dipper's time in the portal had been what fully filled out the boy, the old clothes left lying around the house that Mabel didn't own were just a bit fitted for his tastes.

As much as he was used to sleeping in the same clothing he had on for weeks; Mabel would hear nothing of it. Sea worn clothes had been snatched just as he had came out changed into the borrowed things and she had disappeared to go wash them.

Stan glanced around the room, avoiding looking a few things that reminded him too much of his first night in Stanford's home. A picture frame stood on the desk in the room; the glass covered in dust so it hid the picture. Carefully, he picked it up and brushed the dust off of it. A small smile formed on his face seeing the slightly faded picture of Dipper and Mabel at the ages he remembered them to be. There were differences, given the time that they had grown up in this dimension but it was the same bright smile from Mabel and the amused roll of the eyes from Dipper; the same kids he had quickly grown to love. 

He wondered what would happen to them if they never returned. Would both Stanford and him be labeled as lost at sea? Would his niblings have to go to an empty casket burial when they weren't dead at all? 

The creaking of the old door being pushed open made him jump; the picture almost dropping to the ground. Stan spun around fast to see two identical faces peaking in curiously.

"Told you he wasn't asleep," Lee said, pushing past his brother to run into the room and jump onto the bed. 

"What are you two doing down here? Thought your great aunt sent you to bed." Stan stated. His eyes landing on the rainbow-plaid patterned pajama pants his younger double was wearing; questioning the boy's choices. 

"Technically she only told us to go brush our teeth," Ford said, walking into the room and taking a seat on the couch, "Which we did. Plus it is summer, no bed times allowed."

"Yeah! Up all night!" Lee laughed, punching the air. 

Stan glanced between them, "Alright. Then let me repeat the first question I asked: what are you two doing down here?" 

Lee sat up, his messy curls now sticking up in odd angles. "I _said_ it was going to be an awesome sleepover with double the me." 

"Yeah, problem with that is that I don't do sleepovers anymore." 

Both the twins booed, Lee going as far as shouting random things like 'You Stink' and 'Chicken'. Stan wasn't very moved, he was used to this. The man moved over to the bed and easily picked up Lee and set him on the floor.

"Come on, it is only nine" Ford said, laying back on the couch in the room. Lee ran over to his twin; Ford letting out a small 'oof' noise when his brother decided laying on top of him was a good idea after being evicted from the bed. With a small noise of pain the boy pushed his twin off and onto the wood floor. 

"Yeah!" Lee chirped, not caring about the hard drop he just went through, "only nine, too early to really get ready for bed. Now is about the time where I sneak ice cream out of the freezer!" 

"Isn't that counter productive to your aunt wanting your teeth brushed?" Stan questioned, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at them. 

The younger Stanley only shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, but I don't care. I'm thirteen now, I have passed the right of passage into manhood! Men do what they- Oh my Gosh a piece of candy corn!" 

The child's eye were wide with wonder as he picked up the candy from the floor; the simple piece looked like it had been sitting in this room for a long time. Lee wiped it off on his pajama shirt and grinned up at Ford. 

"Ew," Ford wrinkled up his nose in disgust, "That thing is ancient." A grin replaced the face, a shine of mischief lighting up his brown eyes, "I dare you to eat it."

"You are so on!" Lee laughed, popping the candy into his mouth. He chewed on the old candy with a face of disgust, gagging a little at the stale taste before finally struggling down a swallow. "Success!" He shouted, knocking his arm into Ford's face. 

"Yeah, true men right there," Stan said, trying to fight off the sense of nostalgia watching the two boys was giving him. "You had your fun bothering me, time to leave. Go watch T.V. or something."

"We don't want to watch T.V." Ford muttered, crossing his arms. 

"Well then what do you want? Because I don't have much to offer you," Stan huffed, were they really this stubborn as kids?

"Well," Ford began, looking up at the ceiling wistfully, "You could do one thing."

"Yeah, just a small little thing," Lee agreed, nodding his head up and down.

Stan looked between them, suspicious, "What?" 

They looked at each other for only a second before their eyes got big as they made their decimation.

 "Tell us about the Stan O' War!" They said at the same time, eyes getting wide and pleading. 

"What is it like?" Ford asked.

"Have you met pirates?" Lee said next. 

"How many places have you discovered?" 

"Were they zombie pirates?" 

Stan's eyes went back and forth at the ping pong match of questions. The boy's questions getting faster and louder as they got more and more excited. He had to put a stop to it for the sake of his headache and his sanity trying to keep up with them. 

"Alright," Stan sighed heavily, hands up in surrender, "One story and it is off to bed with the both of you." 

The twins cheered, jumping up and taking a seat on the bed next to the old man. Lee grinned up at him brightly, the impatience and excitement in his eyes being matched by Ford's. Stan had to let a chuckle escape him at the sight, leaning back slightly where he sat as he thought of what he should tell them. 

"Okay, so, we didn't fight any zombie pirates," Stan began, "But there was this time with a kraken. We couldn't have been out for more then a month or two..."

* * *

Dipper had to admit that having an extra pair of hands made the rest of the dismantling of the portal much faster then it had been going with just him. At least he assumed it was much faster, time down in the basement never truly seemed to pass. His lack of placing clocks down here did have a hindrance.

“That should be the last of it,” Dipper called down, sliding down a supporting beam quickly considering his age. Stanford was already sorting through the loose materials scattered across the ground.

“Good,” Stanford said, handing over a remaining power core. “I have already begun sorting out useful material from scraps.”

Dipper smiled, though what had remained of the portal to take down didn't make too much sense the blueprints should have been buried around in the draws somewhere. When it had become plain that taking the rest of the portal down wasn't going to help them figure out how to get the alternates home they didn't stop because of the reasoning that some of the materials of the portal could be used once they began to actual creation of whatever was going to be used to get Stan and Stanford home.

The ding of the elevator made both of the scientists look through the observation area’s window. Mabel walking out carrying two foil covered plates.

“You boys planning on getting any sleep?” She asked, setting the plates on the desk and entering the portal room.

“Mabel, there is no time for sleep,” Dipper said, walking over to his twin. “We are on the verge of a break-mph.”

Mabel cut her brother off with a fork full of food being shoved into his open mouth; a smirk on her old face.

“Don’t need to know the details, nerd. Just came down here to ask and make sure you both eat something.”

Dipper chewed on the food with a sulking look on his face but seemed to give in to the words his twin was saying. Grabbing his plate and sitting at the desk.

Stanford chuckled at the exchange, the closeness between the two of them seemed to travel across dimensions. It was nice to see the years hadn’t broken that.

“Hey, Stanford, you also are in need of a good late-night dinner.” Mabel said, pressing the second plate to Stanford’s stomach with a smirk on her face. “It is made with love and maybe a little sweat.”

“Mabel, that is disgusting,” Dipper said, a smile threatening to pull up the corners of his mouth.

“You’re disgusting, Dip-Dot,” She shot back, laughing.

 “You boys try and get some sleep tonight, okay? I know getting Stan and you home is important but it isn’t like it is the end of the world.”

She winked at them both and disappeared into the elevator, “I expect to see you both upstairs for breakfast.”

Before either of them could have a chance to protest or say anything else the doors closed leaving them both in the lab. Dipper ate a little slower, moving to grab a blank blue-print paper and drawing designs to what Stanford assumed was the dimension jumping device.

“You and Mabel,” Stanford began, shifting the foil covered plate in his grip, “You’re close aren’t you?”

“Yeah, we look out for each other,” Dipper said, glancing away from the blueprint to look at the other man. “Least, most of the time we do.”

Stanford glanced back at the empty area where the portal had stood a few hours ago. There didn’t seem to be any of the hostile feelings he and his brother had upon his arrival back in their world. Mabel and Dipper seemed to be as close to each other as ever.

“Most of the time?” Stanford asked, treading carefully over this topic.

Dipper tilted his head slightly, “Well, there are somethings we don’t see eye to eye to. Like her turning our home into a tourist trap or…” He vaguely waved his fork towards where the portal had stood. “But we have gotten passed it, and are working it out.”

Stanford nodded, setting his still wrapped up plate on the desk next to Dipper and looking over the messy sketches of a design. Glancing over the small margin notes that were written in a code he hadn’t seen before.

“I would eat before you get to asking about this, Mabel will be down to get the plates in an hour and if they even have a crumb on them she will drag us both upstairs.”


	10. Water Wars

The late morning sun shined brightly down into the little clearing in the woods and a bird chirped innocently somewhere above the trees. Down in that clearing sat a house, which was sadly being made a victim of a water balloon fight.

Ford ducked as Lee through a water filled blue balloon at his head, letting the item burst onto a tree. A smirk went onto his freckled face as he spun around and chucked an orange one at his twin. The balloon fell short and just bounced on the damp ground.

“Oh come on!” Ford shouted at the sky, this was the fifth time it had happened. A red balloon to the face cut off his anger, splattering him with water as he landed on the ground.

The shadow of Lee shaded him from the light as he laid on the ground. Lee picked up the orange balloon and stood over his brother, a wicked grin on his sticker covered face.

“Any last words, brother?”

Ford held up a hand, as if that was going to stop the balloon from raining water down on him when it was thrown at him. Lee raised his arm to chuck it at the twin but it never came as the child was suddenly hit by a spray of water. The balloon fell to the ground as Lee was forced to back up and shield his face from the sudden attack. 

Ford stared at the scene above him with a grin on his face. He turned back to find Mabel standing there with a big grin on her face and the garden hose in hand.

“Betrayal!” Lee shouted, sputtering as some water got into his mouth. 

Ford took the advantage of his brother’s plight and stood up; grabbing his last water balloon from his pocket he threw it at Lee. The throw had been too hard this time, the green colored object sailing right over his brother’s head and hitting Stan in the face as he was stepping out of the front door. The old man stood there for a second, water dripping off his glasses and nose. The sight made Mabel crack up laughing, her hand holding the hose lowering so Lee found his chance to escape now that he was no longer blind. The boy was sopping wet, but he didn’t care. His bare feet collecting dirt and making a trail as he ran to the porch to hide behind his damp alternate self.

“Oh- I am so sorry, Stan!” Ford said quickly, his face going red. “I-I was…well technically I was aiming at you but not you…”

Stan took off his glasses slowly with his left hand, wiping them off on a dry spot on his shirt. When the square frames were back on his nose a smirk made its way onto his face.

“Don’t sweat it kid,” Stan said coolly, a second later Ford was hit with a water balloon on the shoulder. Stan’s hand still raised from the throw and Lee cackling behind him.

“Oh! I see how it is going to be,” Mabel said, recovering from her laughter, “Two versus two. One old fart and a spry jumping bean.”

She aimed the hose at the two Stanleys on the porch, the spray hitting Stan before it landed on the drenched Lee behind them.

“Scatter!” They both shouted at the same time, running off in different directions. Mabel and Ford glanced at each other before grinning. Mabel hurried after Lee with the hose and Ford set off after Stan after stopping next to the porch for a restock of water balloons.

Ford stuck his tongue out as he stopped his advance so he could chuck a balloon at the man’s back. The throw was just short and the balloon broke on the ground next to Stan’s boot covered foot.

“Darn it!” Ford grumbled, taking another balloon from his pocket and continuing the chase. 

* * *

 _Who knew running around getting soaked to the bone with water balloons and the hose could be exhausting?_ Stan thought, his eyebrows scrunching up as he thought over the statement. Wait. He did know this, this exhaustion is why usually he didn’t get involved too much in the game when Dipper and Mabel played it on his world. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

The proof of his age was right now rummaging through the kitchen, still wearing a soaked sweater and jeans. the second example of that was laying on him right now; glasses skewed as he began to dose off as they both occupied the recliner in front of the T.V. Carefully, Stan took Ford’s glasses off the boy and laid them on the dinosaur skull functioning as a side table. The boy didn’t even flinch at the action, just blinked tired eyes open for a second to figure out what had happened before closing them again.

“Grauntie Mabel!” Lee shouted from the kitchen, “We are out of eggs again! And the weird jar is back in the fridge…though it looks empty of creepy dead thing!”

Mabel’s footsteps could be heard entering the kitchen from the hallway, the woman saying something that Stan couldn’t really hear from where he sat. He shifted the sleeping child on top of him to a more comfortable position for the both of them and unmuted the television when the show they had been watching together came back from commercials. He was all settled now to follow his alternate brother's lead and take an afternoon nap.

“Hey,” Mabel said, peering in from the kitchen entrance. Her long, grey curls were down out of the normal bun and looked a little damp still from the chase. “I am going to get Lee dried up and take him to the store to get some groceries. You need me to pick up anything?”

Stan glanced at her and shook his head no, “Nah, I’m good. Long as you have stuff to make a midnight sandwich I can survive.”

“Then I will make sure to pick up some lunch meat, because I think Lee used to last of ours to make a Ham-witch,” he said, laughing a little at the thought, “Too bad it would start rotting. Would have made it an exhibit.”

“Ham-witch, huh,” Stan said, a little impressed at the smaller version of himself. The sound of wet jeans moving into the room brought the very child in; Lee walked straight over to the recliner and looked at his brother’s face.

“And he said he was going to try and go twenty-four hours,” Lee huffed, standing on his tip toes to whisper in his twin’s ear. “I win nerd; you owe me five bucks you can't survive two weeks running on Mabel Juice fumes.” 

Ford grumbled and moved his ear away out of Lee' reach. His six fingered hand tightening its grip on Stan's shirt as he settled back into a peaceful sleep now that he was away from his twin's whispers. 

“Leave your brother alone,” Mabel said though she looked a little amused by the situation, “He’s sleeping, that is what matters. You need to go upstairs and change out of those wet clothes.”

She walked over to the aquarium and took something off the top of it, Stan’s eyebrows going up seeing it was a red motorcycle helmet. Lee’s eyes seemed to widen with excitement when he spotted it, a huge braces-filled grin stretching his cheeks.

“Are we taking the motorcycle!” He squealed excitedly, the pitch almost disrupting his sleeping twin.

“If you get ready fast enough, I think we should have enough room on the motorcycle for you and some groceries,” Mabel stated. That seemed to do it, the boy running out of the room and up the stairs. Stan couldn’t help but laugh; the thought of Mabel riding a motorcycle making sense to him slowly seeing how he had noted it when they arrived yesterday. The vehicle’s pink paint sparkling in the sunlight while it sat innocently outside should have been a big indicator that it was Mabel's, the girl could be sparkly and bad-ass all at the same time when she was twelve, of course that would carry over into other words and get better with age.

“I would comment on the motorcycle, but it sounds like something my Mabel would want.” As soon as he said those words, he stored this memory away for future reference for when Stanford and him returned. The twins' Sixteenth birthday he was going to have to get Mabel a motorcycle; she would love it screw how her parents would probably react.

“Sounds like my alternate self has good tastes then,” she grinned, tucking the helmet under her arm and pulling the wet hair into a loose pony tail.

“We won’t be gone long,” she said, hearing the telltale sign of someone stumbling down the stairs. Stan gave her a wave and focused back on the show, though he wasn’t sure what was happening anymore on the screen. The front door closed leaving the house in a comfortable silence, the only real sound he noted was the T.V.’s low volume and the steady breathing of the child sleeping. The rhythm of it lulling him into a doze. 


	11. Missing Variable

The lab was quiet as the two scientists worked; pieces of the dismantled portal trailed from the portal room and into the main lab. There were crumpled up balls of paper littering the floor, adding to the mess every time another thing didn't work out as they wanted. 

“I never was one for the engineering aspect of research,” Stanford said, filling the silence of the room surprisingly. He usually hadn’t been one to talk during important thing, that had always been Fiddleford’s job. The southerner finding it hard to work if he wasn’t humming or talking. Working on a project like this made Stanford miss the mindless chatter. 

He finished writing an equation, frowning at the failed end result. No matter how many times they tried to figure out how to get from this dimension to the other the math always ended up with Stan and Stanford lost in space or dead or scattered amongst the multiverse as only their base components. 

“Neither was I,” Dipper said, seemingly also finding a snag in his calculations, crumpling up his paper and tossing it over his shoulder, “found more joy in filming and recording the paranormal.”

“Paranormal?” There was something a little different then his life; Stanford had come to study anomalies. Paranormal and other things just seemed to come with the job description he made for himself.

“Yep, came for the ghosts got a lot more in return,” Dipper chuckled, looking at Stanford.

Ghosts; there was something that clicked more with his Dipper Pines back on Dimension-46. The boy had mentioned that he wanted to create his own ghost hunting show. Seems this Dipper almost got that chance, too bad that technology in his time was behind him and the interest in such things wasn't very high in the eighties. 

“Interesting,” Stanford mused, trying to look distracted with the blank sheet of paper in front of him. “There are differences between us then, my motivation was to come to study anomalies. Find out why they existed and such,” he continued, stopping his hands from writing another unneeded x, “No better place than Gravity Falls to find that out.”

“Very true there,” Dipper said, the last word trailing off as the man went into some unspoken thought.

Stanford took a chance to look at him, really get a good look at the older man his great nephew was in this world. Dirty pine tree hat that sat on dark grey curls, the hat did not sit like it had been in his world so the birthmark showed a little. His face was worn, obviously it had seen horrors through that portal, but there also seemed to be some peace.

The man looked away when Dipper seemed to come out of his musings, moving across the room to pick up the scrapped paper he had been working on before the conversation came up. Dipper’s pen scratching furiously was the only noise for a few seconds before the paper was slammed down onto Stanford’s side of the work space.

“The missing variable.”

Stanford looked at the new addition, eyes crinkling at confusion at what the missing variable was.

“But, where are we going to find one stable enough?”

Dipper opened his mouth to answer but said nothing the confident smile fading into a confused frown. With a groan he took the paper and once again turned it into a ball. "Back to the drawing board," he muttered dejectedly.

"It was a good concept, Dipper," Stanford said, trying to give the man some confidence that they would figure it out, "But finding a wormhole close by stable and permanent enough on such short notice seems a little far fetched. If all else fails, if we can't think of something else, we could use that in eight months." 

Dipper nodded his head, already working on a new formula. Stanford sighed and for a second there he really thought that they had a solution. It was only day one though, there was still time to figure this out and get home before anything happened. His eyes moved to where the Rift was hidden. The thought of  _I hope_ flitted through his head. He didn't need to relive another Weirdmaggedon.

* * *

Lee ran into the store with a huge grin on his face, barely waiting for his great aunt to grab a cart and keep up with him. The boy disappearing down the first aisle in a blur of grey, blue, and brown.

“Stanley, hold on a second,” Mabel called after him, “I am not as young as I used to be.”

Lee didn’t seem to hear her, his feet moving fast down the aisles until he reached his destination. The boy stood in front of the candy aisle, a wide grin on his face. He gave a longing look at the bubble gum before moving towards the chocolate, nimble fingers snatching up a bar and pushing it down his sweater’s sleeve.

“Do you really have ta’ do that?” A voice said behind him, making the boy jump.

Spinning around, he prepared a good excuse on why he was sneaking chocolate. The hastily put together excuse died upon seeing familiar sandy hair and an amused smile.

“Fiddleford!” He laughed, the candy dropping out of his sleeves as he moved towards the boy and wrapped him in a hug. “How dare you question my lack of morals. You of all people can’t judge me when you literally made a robot to chase after a kid.”

Fiddleford laughed and hugged his friend with one arm, the other protecting the loaf of bread he had been carrying.

“I have reason for doin’ that, the kid was pickin’ on a girl two years younger than him.”

Lee moved back and grinned at him, “My Fiddles, always the hero.”

“I ain’t your anythin’,” Fiddleford said, picking up the chocolate from the ground and putting it back on the shelves.

“Oh right, your Ford’s. My mistake,” Lee teased, laughing when Fiddleford punched his shoulder lightly.

“Shut it, you. I ain’t his either.” Fiddleford giggled, a faint blush dusting his face. He turned his face away before Lee could see to put the last chocolate bar back in its proper place.

The rolling sound of a shopping cart brought their attention to a person coming down the aisle quickly, both the boys smiling at the sight of the new comer.

“Lee, I told you to wait,” Mabel said, a smile still on her face. “Why, hello there Fiddleford. What are you doing here?”

“Buyin’ some bread and peanut butter,” Fiddleford shrugged, “I ran out at home yesterday.”

“Your father here with you?” She asked, eyeing the bread the child had in his arms. Her smile dimming when Fiddleford shook his head no.

“No ma’am, came on my own.”

Lee glanced at the bread before looking at his aunt, “Grauntie Mabel, can Fiddleford spend the night?”

“Wha- Stanley!” Fiddleford exclaimed, surprised and uncertain why his friend would feel the need to ask such a question.

“I don’t see why not, we already have a nice party of people at the Shack,” Mabel said, “That is if he wants to.”

“I-I don’ wanna be any bother,” Fidds muttered, though there was a hopeful look on his face.

Mabel smiled at him kindly, taking the bread from his arms and setting it in the empty cart.

“Then it settles it,” she said, “I’ll call your dad to let you know you are staying over at my house.”

“Yay! Now the sleep over will be even with double the me and double the nerds!”

Fiddleford sent Lee a confused look at the statement, not sure how to take that.

“Did you clone yourself again?”

Lee just laughed, “No. I…” the boy stopped mid-explanation to contemplate on how to explain it, “Well it is sort of like… I just got to show you when we get home.”

“Alright?” The southerner said, sounding more confused than before.

“You boys pick out some candy and get a frozen pizza or two while I get everything else we need at the house, alright?” Mabel said, ruffling Lee’s hair as she pushed the shopping cart passed him.

They both nodded, Lee going as far as giving her a salute, before she left them alone again. Fiddleford was contemplating what candy to get when the thought hit him.

“Wait a second, she took my bread! Oh, I hope she don’ think she is gunna have to pay for that.”


	12. Fiddleford H. McGucket

Fiddleford slapped Lee’s hands away from the candy that was on display in the check-out aisle for the third time since they got in line. Every time he did Lee would give him a look of total betrayal and agony; all the kid wanted was to see if he could sneak candy without the cashier knowing. Fidds didn’t see the reason why since Mabel was already buying them more candy than they could probably eat in a month.

“Fidds! Stop,” Lee whined, putting a pout onto his face.

“You ain’t allowed to steal on my watch,” Fiddleford huffed, keeping his voice low so the person that was now standing in line behind them couldn’t hear, “Especially when your aunt goes and buys my groceries as well.”

Stan stuck his tongue out at his friend’s logic but seemed to heed to it as he moved over to grab the grocery bags and put them, clumsily, into the cart. Fiddleford moving over to help, taking his items and putting them in his own bag so he didn’t have to separate them later.

“There you go. Sorry for the search for the wallet,” Mabel laughed, putting her card back into her over sparkly wallet after paying. The cashier didn’t seem to really care, just nodding his head and turning his attention to the person behind them in line.

“Ready to go, kiddos?”

Lee hung onto the side of the cart with a grin on his face, “Yep!”

Fiddleford just nodding in confirmation, sticking to walking beside the cart as they headed out of the store. The teenager glanced around the cars looking for the familiar beat up blue car that was, as he had learned later, was Dipper Pines’. The blood seemed to drain from his face upon the realization the two Pines family members had arrived in something he had no desire in riding in.

The pink motorcycle shone brightly in the sun as they stopped beside it, Mabel looking at the items in the bags and the side car that both the boys and the groceries were going to ride in.

“Guess I should have considered the whole extra person thing,” Mabel mused, glancing at the both of them. “Course, one of you can ride sitting with me.”

Lee’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights at the idea, the child raising his hand and jumping up and down excitedly.

“Me! Me! I’ll do it! Please! I wanna do it!”

Mabel laughed, “Alright, Jelly Bean, you can do it as long as Fiddleford is okay with it.”

Fiddleford tore his eyes away from the bike, a hesitant smile working its way onto his face.

“I-I am fine with it, Ms. Pines.”

She smiled, “Alright then.”

Fiddleford squeaked as she lifted him up and dropped him into the sidecar. The boy’s face going pink with how easily he was lifted. He moved over some when she reached in and grabbed the helmets, placing the extra one on his head.

“You can borrow Ford’s,” she said with a wink, tossing a red one to the boy behind her.

Slowly the bags were placed around the teen, Fidds being told to keep the eggs from falling over and cracking. He hoped with all his heart he didn’t end up dropping them out of fear of them crashing. Lee was the one to push the cart into the return station before the boy jumped onto the back of the bike behind his Great Aunt and holding tightly to her waist.

“Now remember kids,” Mabel said, starting the motorcycle’s engine, “If we get pulled over, we are most likely going to have to walk home or wait for Dipper to pick up the phone while we sit in the town’s jail.”

“Sounds like an awesome time,” Lee laughed.

Another rumble of the engine and they pulled out of the parking lot slower than the silent boy in the side car was expecting. The fake lull of peace was disturbed once they were on the road, the vehicle taking off at a speed that was most likely over the speed limit by a good ten miles.

Fidds distantly heard Lee shout with delight and heard someone yelp in surprise. Only when they were a good portion down the mostly empty road did it click that that shout was his own.

 _Note to self,_ He thought miserably, _Don’t get on the motorcycle if Ms. Pines OR Stanley are driving._

* * *

The door banging open is what shook the two sleeping people awake. Ford shouting out something that really didn’t make much sense to Stan, the man just assuming the alternate form of his brother was as surprised as him from the sudden disturbance of their peace.

The sound of footsteps covered up the low volume of the T.V. just as Lee appeared in the doorway, motorcycle helmet on his head, a bag on each arm, and a huge smile on his freckled face.

“Fordsy~ I brought you a present!”

“Is it chocolate? Or the hours that I could have spent continuing my nap before you so rudely slammed the door open?” Ford grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Nope!” Lee chirped.

“Stanley! You could help me with these here bags! Me and your aunt can’t be expected to carry them all in for ya’!” A southern voice shouted from the entry way, sounding a little annoyed with being stuck with carrying around items that weren’t really his to be carrying.

Ford seemed to snap awake at the sound, the boy sliding off Stan’s lap and hurrying to the front room; leaving his glasses on the dinosaur skull side table.

“Fiddleford!” The boy’s excited shout could be heard before a thump, making Lee laugh.

“Oh those crazy kids,” Lee said with a sigh, moving over and setting the bags he had been carrying down and taking Ford’s spot on his alternate-self’s lap.

“My turn for Stan time,” Lee said happily, “Now that the nerds are back together, we can spend the time finding those freaking similarities. Hey, do you get a weird nose whistle when you run uphill? Cause I do and I want to know if it is going to cause any weird stuff when I get older.”

Stan couldn’t help but laugh at Lee’s statement, shifting his position to get more comfortable in the recliner.

“You know; I don’t remember being this forward with things when I was younger.”

Lee shrugged, “Different time, different Stanley. So do you get the nose whistle?”

“I did, then I broke my nose in a fight and it fixed itself.”

Lee nodded slowly, a contemplative look on his face as he took in the statement the older version of himself said. He rested his chin on his index fingers and made a small humming sound.

“So it has come to this then,” muttered, “Always knew I was going to have to let my face be ruined for the greater good. Ford is gonna to have to live on as the handsome twin.”

At that Stan barked a laugh, an arm going around the child and pulling him closer to him.

“Hey, we will always be the handsome ones,” Stan said, a smirk on his face, “And he’ll always be the nerdy one. Understand?”

Lee nodded, though it wasn’t very reassuring when you are looking at your older, wrinkled self in the face. Lee was going to stand by his wishes to not grow old.

“Stanley!”

The shout of Fiddleford made both of them look towards the door way, identical looks of surprise on their faces. A young teenager walked in, tawny hair sticking up in odd angles and circular glasses sitting on his nose. The boy had looked like he was about to say something but the words died on his lips.

“Oh, hey Fiddlenerd!” Lee said, waving, “So remember that ‘double the me thing’ back at the store? Welp, here is me!”

Fiddleford looked between the old man and the child on his lap, his eyes moving like it was a very interesting tennis match. He opened his mouth a few times to comment but everything he thought of seemed to fall flat. With a defeated sigh, he just shook his head.

“Well, this isn’ the strangest thing I have seen this summer,” he said, raking a hand through his hair, “Either of ya’ gonna help with the groceries?”

Lee whined, “But I was there to help buy them.”

“You were attemptin’ shop liftin’!”

“Details,” Stan and Lee said at the same time. The man and the child smiling at each other at the fact that had happened.

“You know what,” Fiddleford said, putting a hand over his eyes. “Never mind, I never came in here to ask ya’ll. You can just forget it.”

“Wait,” Stan said, stopping the teenager from retreating. The man reached around Lee and grabbed Ford’s glasses from the side table. “Think Ford is going to need these," He said, holding them out for Fidds.

Fiddleford looked between the older Stanley Pines and the glasses before nodded his head and taking them.

“Thank you.” Fiddleford said with a small nod before leaving the room again.

“Well,” Stan said after a few moments of silence, “Never expected to see McGucket all…changed.”

“There is a McGucket in your world!?!” Lee said excitedly, “Is he still a total nerd? Does he still build robots when emotional? Are he and Stanford dating!?!”

“No he- wait, what!?” Stan sputtered, looking back at where the child had left and back at Lee, “No, McGucket was the town kook who I didn’t know what actually my brother’s lab assistance. Why…why would they be dating?”

Lee shrugged, “I dunno, I have been trying to set them up all summer. Double Ford out there like to stare at each other a lot and get all blushie around each other. I know Pa would never approve but…I think it would be nice for them to have each other in that nerdy love sort of way. I was just hoping that their older selves still had each other.”

Stan made a small noise that he heard but was in deep thought now. He tried to see it; McGucket and his twin. A rich billionaire inventor, now that he was on the road to recovery, and his nerdy twin that liked to steer them towards dangerous holes in the universe. He couldn’t see it, maybe they had something in the past though. How was he supposed to know, he just knew McGucket was a friend who had been hurt by the portal and Stan was glad that Ford hadn’t been driven to the level of insanity that the engineer had been.

“I can’t see it happening,” Stan said, shaking his head, “Local Kook and my Stanford, nah. They are still shakily repairing a friendship.”

Lee pouted, “Well, that isn’t going to stop me from trying to get them together!”

Stan admired the determination, this alternate self-seemed to have almost Mabel-level confidence. Thinking about it, maybe he used to have that as well and then life had ripped it away. Had that happened to this Mabel? She was taking his place in this situation. The very thought of Mabel having to go through his life settled in his stomach like a boulder.

“Lee!” Mabel’s voice called from the kitchen, cutting off Stan’s thoughts, “You want to help us with the pizzas?”

“YEAH!” Lee said, jumping off his older self and running out of the room; leaving Stan with his thoughts and the forgotten groceries the child had carried in. 


	13. Differences Between Us

Mabel hummed over the noise of the twins running up the stairs, placing the plates in the sink for washing later. The sound of the attic door shutting and the gentle noise of the T.V. becoming the only things she could hear. Grabbing a bottle from the high up shelves and two glasses she left the kitchen and headed for the T.V. room. Placing the object on the table in the room, she dragged a chair over next to the recliner. Mabel grabbed the bottle and the glasses and sat down, holding one out for Stan.

The man had been watching her the whole time, his face blank of emotion though his eyes read that he was thinking something deep. He took the glass and let her pour him something to drink.

“Something bothering you, Stan?”

“What?” The man said, coming out of his thoughts. He shook his head quickly and downed the drink in a gulp, “No. Why would there be anything wrong?” He had a smile on his face as he said this, but it seemed strained around the edges.

Mabel hummed, not too convinced on that statement. She took a small sip of her drink and placed the bottle on the ground. Not very subtly, she scooted her chair closer to him.

“You know,” she said carefully, “I have been technically raising you for almost three months. I can tell when you are lying.”

Stan looked away, tapping his fingers on the glass nervously. His eyes moved towards the doorway to the entrance room before he looked at her.

“How was your childhood?”

Mabel blinked, a confused expression crossing her face, “What?”

“Humor me for a second,” Stan said, “I’ll get to my point in a minute, just… tell me about your childhood.”

Mabel pursed her lips before shrugging, it wasn’t like she would let him get out of that promise. Leaning back in her chair she scrambled for memories of her home life in Piedmont when she was younger.

“Well,” she began, “Me and Dipper were born and raised in Piedmont, California. We have a brother named Tyrone, who, was a good deal older than us when we were born so there aren’t too many memories over the age of ten of him being around a lot. It was nice, I had my friends next door and Dipper would hang around as we played. Stayed like that till middle school where he eventually found people as nerdy as him.”

She laughed, glancing over at Stan to see if there was any reaction. He was leaning a little closer, taking in the words like a thirsty man to water. She kept going, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

“Then high school came; it was a weird time. Hormones and pimples, really amazingly colored outfits that Dipper will forever hate his prom suits for,” she chuckled again, remembering the awesome green of that outfit. “Dipper knew he wanted to go to college, didn’t know what for but he could get into any school he wanted practically so mom and dad weren’t worried. He eventually found one that offered him the film minor, had his heart set on a ghost hunting show the nut. I got into art school and we wrote to each other through the college days.”

Stan had a small smile on his face, the stress of the question seemed to vanish as he listened to her words.

“What happened after college?” He asked.

“Well, Dipper graduated first and called me up while I was visiting our parents. Said he was going to study the paranormal and was moving up to Gravity Falls. He offered to let me come up with him, help with whatever, probably wanted me to draw his show’s logo. I waiting till I graduated before I came up to Gravity Falls, so he was up here for a year before I arrived.”

“And,” Stan said slowly, “You have been together ever since?”

“Well, ever since subtracting the thirty years he was stuck in the portal,” Mabel laughed, though it was a bitter laugh that didn’t match her usual cheerfulness, “It was an accident that. Something happened during its construction that obviously meant there was something fishy but he wouldn’t listen-“

“And you ended up fighting…” Stan finished the statement, a sigh escaping him as he sat back in the recliner.

Silence fell between them, Mabel getting a small uneasy feeling in her gut about the reason that the question was asked. “Why’d you ask me that? I don’t think it was just to get to know me better.”

Stan met her eyes after it was asked for a second before looking away, staring at his empty glass again.

“I had to know,” Stan said, after finding his words, “I had to know if you had experienced the same life I had.”

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, Stan turning his head fast to look up at Mabel. The woman having stood up without him noticing and was now standing right next to him.

“Stan,” she said, a concerned look on her face, “Why did you need to know?” 

* * *

“You enter-“ _THUMP_ “the elven forest-“ _THUMP_ “Upon your arrival you notice that the usuall-“ _THUMP._

Ford grit his teeth, taking in a deep breath from his nose as he turned his head to look at the third occupant of the attic room. Lee was sitting upside down on his bed, the last slice of pizza hanging from his mouth, and opening and closing the large Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons rule book over and over again.

Fiddleford sat across from Ford on the other side of the board, every time the thump noise would happen the southerner looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh. If a snort escaped him he would send an apologetic look over to his friend.

They had been in the attic for a good hour or two and had barely gotten started with the game since Fiddleford and him decided to start a new quest. The initial creation process took a good chunk of the time, especially when Lee had started to make fun of a few rules in the book, having dug his glasses out of the place he had buried them and begin to read passages he had found entertaining aloud of them to hear. Eventually Fidds and Ford had stopped listening and Lee had gone downstairs to get the remains of their dinner.

“Lee, will you stop that!” Ford snapped, looking ready to snatch the book away from his brother.

Lee let the book fall to the floor, the hard cover hitting the wood making a loud thunk noise. The pizza being taken from his mouth slowly as the boy rolled over onto his stomach.

“But I am bored, Ford!” Lee whined, before giggling, “Heh, bored Ford.”

Fiddleford snorted at the words, casually moving so it wasn’t obvious he was sliding the rule book out of Lee’s reach.

“Doesn’t excuse you to bother us while we are playing a game,” Ford huffed.

“Yeah it does,” Lee said, taking a bite from the pizza slice and chewing on it with a scowl.

“Ya’ could try playin’ with us again,” Fiddleford suggested, “We aren’t that far along, adding another member to our party wouldn’ be too much trouble.”

Lee shook his head, “No way. I played once and I don’t plan on playing again.”

“Well, then could you please stop with the book slammin’?”

“Or go downstairs and mess with Stan?” Ford grumbled.

"I would do that but when I went down there for the last of the pizza him and Grauntie Mabel were talking,” Lee complained, “It sounded like boring grown-up stuff.”

“Well,” Ford said, sounding exasperated and done with this conversation, “Can you find something else to entertain yourself with while we try and get through this elven forest?”

Lee glanced between them, a look of deep thought on his face as he ‘considered’ doing what his twin had asked of him before he grinned.

“Nope,” he said cheerily.

Ford looked ready to start shouting, his face was getting red and his right eye twitching. Fiddleford decided it was this moment to step in to stop the brawl that would eventually ensue.

“You know, it wouldn’ be that bad if we took a break,” He said, standing up from where he had been sitting on the floor and stretching, “I wouldn’t mind doin’ somethin’ else for a bit.”

“But-“ Ford began to protest, a betrayed look crossing his face.

“We have all night to continue our quest, Stanford,” Fidds pointed out, “I think amusing your brother a bit wouldn’t hurt us in the long run.”

“Yeah!” Lee cheered, getting up off the bed and taking another bite of the pizza slice in his hands. “I know what we should do too!”

“Swallow and then speak,” Fidds and Ford said to the third occupant in the room at the same time. Lee rolled his eyes and did as they asked.

“Yes Mom and Dad,” He huffed in an annoyed tone before hurrying to the doorway, “Now come on, I’ll tell you on the way down there.”

“Down there?” Ford asked, standing up.

His twin gave him no answer, just hurried out of the room and down the wooden stair case. Fiddleford just sent Ford a shrug before flowing at the same pace the first boy had, leaving Ford alone in the attic room confused on what had just happened and what was going to happen. A few seconds passed before a light bulb went off in his head and he bolted out of the room.

“Stanley, no! We shouldn’t go down to the basement!”


	14. Coffee Break

Exhaustion was making the numbers on the paper blur together; Dipper had been struggling to keep his eyes open recently. The man rubbing his eyes constantly to keep them focused on the numbers in front of him. He hoped this wasn’t a combined effort of lack of sleep and the fact that he hadn’t seen anyone about his eyes in over thirty years that was making the images fuzzy. He leaned back in his chair with a small groan, the last piece of the puzzle was still alluding them.

A yawn escaped his mouth and he glanced over at the other man in the room. Stanford didn’t seem to be powering down like he was, but the man probably hadn’t spent a week running on two hours of sleep. The alternate version of his nephew was scribbling away as if only a few minutes had passed.

Dipper made sure to make some noise as he stood up from his chair and stretched, the desired effect happening as Stanford looking up from his work with a confused look on his face.

“You alright?” Stanford asked, resting the pen down on top of the paper he had been scribbling on.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dipper said with a yawn, “Just running a bit low on energy. Thinking about taking a coffee break.”

“Oh,” Stanford said, turning back to his work, “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

Dipper frowned; that wasn’t really what he meant when he mentioned the coffee break to the other man. He moved across the room and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder, making him look up.

“You can come along, if you want.” Dipper suggested, a small nervous smile on his face. “I mean; we are getting nowhere staring at these problems. It wouldn’t be bad to step away for a few minutes and clear our heads.”

Stanford frowned and glanced down at the equation that he had been working on. It was just one of many that probably would end up amongst the other paper balls that littered the lab’s floor.

“But, we are so close. If we step away now we may lose the mindset of this or-“

“Or we could actually think of the solution,” Dipper interrupted, his voice almost going into the tone he used with his actual nephew. “Look, we both spent thirty years in many different dimensions. Some were not the best, but here is not that bad if I am not being biased. What is an hour or two relaxing and recharging compared to that, is all I am trying to say?”

Stanford looked up at the man, Dipper sending him a kind smile. Stanford debating the words Dipper said carefully before sighing, accepting defeat against that logic.

“I guess a break wouldn’t hurt,” he conceded.

“That’s right, just a quick coffee run then we can get back down here,” Dipper said, moving towards the elevator. He held the door open so Stanford could get in, a thoughtful look on his face as the door slid close.

“Well, it will be quick if we don’t bump into Mabel. If she knew we have come up she may make sure take the rest of the day…or night off.”

Stanford let a chuckle slip at the statement, it sounded like something Mabel would do and probably Stanley if they had been down there for enough time. He doubted they had been though, surely just a few hours at most. 

“Guess it would be best to avoid both your sister and my brother if we want to dodge that fate,” Stanford said as the elevator dinged. Both of them exiting and heading up the staircase.

When the vending machine swung open they got more of a sense on how much time had passed. The sun was bleeding through the empty gift shop’s windows, meaning the sun was hanging low in the sky outside. One of the few working clocks on a shelf read that it was almost six-fourty. Dipper pushed through the door labeled ‘employee’s only’ first, followed by Stanford. Neither of them noticed the three pairs of eyes watching them from behind the check-out counter.

* * *

Lee was the first to stand up from their hiding place after the men had exited from behind the vending machine, the boy resting his hands on the counter as he cautiously watched the employees only door swing closed. A grin spreading on his face at the amazing timing they were having right now. Ford stood up next, the boy brushing off some dust from his glasses as he sent a nervous glance to the closing vending machine. Fidds standing up next to him, wringing his hands together nervously.

Lee hurried out from behind the counter and stopped the hidden doorway from closing fully, turning to his brother and friend.

“Come on,” He said, motioning for them to follow as he hurried into the dark stairwell that was behind the machine.

Ford and Fiddleford sent each other wary glances before they followed, the vending machine seemingly closing behind them after they entered the secret stairway. The darkness of the first level barely being broken by the dull light of the elevator’s numbers at the bottom of the stairs. The boys had to stumble blindly down until there were standing in the circle of light the elevator made.

“Ya’ know, we ya’ll told me how your great uncle came out of a hidden portal from the basement I can’ say I believed ya’ too much,” Fidds said, glancing up at the light as the doors took their time to open.

“Well, guess you can believe us now, Fiddles.” Lee said, stepping into the elevator. The boy grabbed the other two’s wrists and pulled them in before they could avoid getting in before the doors closed.

Lee tapped the number three button, the doors closing fully and they started their decent. It was dark inside the elevator. Lee kept a loose grip on his brother’s wrist; Fiddleford sticking to Ford’s other side like glue. The elevator slowed to a stop once they reached the third level of the basement, the doors opening slowly and letting in the low light that was coming from the lab.

“Whoa,” Fidds breathed, the earlier hesitation lessening as he laid his eyes upon the blinking lights and machines that were hidden beneath the Mystery Shack.

Lee stepped out, dragging them both behind him as they fully entered the hidden lab under the Mystery Shack.


	15. Buttons Are Pushed

“Now everything is fine, we have been sailing around the world for about eight months now. So that is practically what happened,” Stan finished, shrugging his shoulders, “More or less.”

Stan dared a glance over at Mabel, having been staring at the floor through the summary of everything that had happened. Her eyes were glistening with tears, a hand covering her mouth.

“Oh, that story is so sad,” she got out, “You two did hug it out right? Please tell me you hugged it out or I am going to have to go down there and make you.”

“Yeah, we are all right now. Fighting a chaos god or whatever seems to bring family closer together,” he laughed, though the sound fell flat. “Though sometimes I wonder if he is just keeping me around because of guilt of what happened or that I was a last resort.”

“Stanley, you should know that isn’t true,” a new voice piped in, making both of their heads turn. Stanford stood in the doorway with a frown on his face; Dipper was behind him looking very tired and confused on why they had stopped. The purpose of trying to not be seen by their siblings seemed to have alluded Stanford Pines. 

“What are you doing out of the basement, Ford?” Stan asked, reflecting the attention off him.

“Taking a coffee break,” Stanford said simply, stepping into the room, “But what is this about thinking I am doing this out of pity? I would never do something that like, Stanley. I want you around. It wouldn’t be the Stan o’ War without both of us. If anything, I should be wondering why you came with me at all. You had a good life, people that cared about you and you picked it all up just to follow me into some unknown danger that really didn't matter when compared to all that."

Stan opened his mouth to retort but Mabel beat him action wise. The woman stood up from her seat and walked over to him, surprising him with a tight hug. Both of the Stan twins giving her confused looks; she was successfully preventing an argument between the two men that would just be the other putting themselves down. 

“Has anyone ever told you both that you are idiots?” She sighed, a smile on her face.

The answer of no and yes came from both of them, a quick glance over Mabel’s head being sent to their respective sibling. Mabel chuckled and let go of Stanford.

“Well, you both are. Perfect idiots, you both just need to learn to communicate better,” she said confidently, hands on her hips, “Same with my Stanford and Stanley; those boys may act as think as thieves but I have seen- Dipper Pines don’t you dare think about slipping away you look ready to keel over.”

Her sentence was derailed as the attention of the room was turned to the second member of the basement team. The man had huge bags under his eyes and tried to hide a yawn.

“Mabel, I am fine,” he protested as his sister pushed past Stanford to drag him into the room. “I was just going to start the coffee pot.”

“No you aren’t. You are swaying, when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

Dipper seemed to think about this, rubbing his eyes.

“What day is it?” He asked through a yawn.

Stan and Mabel rolled their eyes at the answer; Mabel pushing Dipper into the chair she had been sitting in before the interruption so he wouldn't fall over.

“No going back downstairs until morning, young man," she scolded her twin.

“We are the same age!” Dipper protested, “And it is my house, Mabel!”

Mabel shook her head, a stern look on her old face. “Does it look like I care? You need sleep and it isn’t like the lab is going anywhere. In fact, I am sure you both need sleep and something proper to eat.”

She turned her attention to Stanford, the man looking unsure if he should decline the offer of food or just accept his fate of being dragged into this sibling squabble. He was starting to regret his decision of not walking by the room when they had come into the hallway.

“I-I am sure we will be fine with just come coffee to wake us up,” Stanford tried, a hesitant smile on his face.

That didn’t seem to work with this old Mabel Pines, the woman narrowing her eyes a little before moving over to the table and pulling out a chair so it was beside Dipper’s.

“Sit,” she said, pointing at it.

Stanford didn’t think twice, taking a seat next to Dipper; his hands in his lap.

“Now, I am going to go see if the boys left any pizza, if not I am sure there is some soup you can have. You two relax, small talk, or whatever and after you eat I expect showers from both of you and then sleep.”

Stanford and Dipper sent each other looks that read they didn’t like being treated like children when there were actual children in the house. Stan couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at how Mabel was commanding the situation, poorly disguising the laugh as a cough when the caught his twin’s glare.

Mabel seemed satisfied when neither of the scientists’ protests and left the room, leaving Stan with clear instructions to keep them in the room until she got back.

“So,” Stan said, looking over at the both of them, “How is basement life?”

* * *

“You know,” Lee said, spinning around in a chair, “We didn’t really get to explore this place last time we were in here.”

Ford looked up from the scribbled out equations he had been examining, glancing over at his twin brother.

“Well, last time we were really in here the world was turning upside-down and our long lost great uncle stepped out of the portal.”

“Yeah,” Lee sighed, jumping off the chair, “That was a good day.”

The boy glanced around the room, looking for something that would interest him as the notes were for Ford or wherever Fiddleford had run off to in here. His eyes lit up at the sight of a control panel, a few buttons blinking at him as if inviting him to touch them. He hurried over and started to mess around with the switches, the clicking noise making his twin turn around.

“Lee! What you doing!” Ford cried, hurrying over and pulling his brother’s hands away from the controls, “You don’t know what that does, it could open up something that shouldn’t be opened or activate the portal-“

 _“Or, or, or,”_ Lee fake stuttered, making his voice go up an octave to do a bad imitation of Ford’s panicked and slightly cracking shrill. Stan laughing at the annoyed look his twin was giving him for the action.

“Oh come on, Sixer, where it the sense of adventure?” Lee said, hand hovering over a red button, “Even if we do get sucked in somehow, it would be pretty rad. I am sure all three of us would become the best space pirates ever and all the dimensions would tremble before us.”

“Stanley,” Ford said, a serious look on his young face, “I have no wish to ever step through that portal in my life. So just..."

Ford pushed his brother’s hand away from the button gently and gave a small sigh of relief. The noise changing to one of a panicked shout as Lee’s hand slammed down on the button.


	16. Cosmic Snowglobe

The twins froze in anticipation of something to happen. They glanced around the lab watching for any new lights to turn on or sounds to start but nothing happened. The sheet that was messily covering up the portal room's viewing window didn’t start lighting up with the flashing lights of the portal, there was only silence. Suddenly, the door to the portal room open causing the boys to scream; both of them clung to each other tightly. The figure that had just appeared screamed as well, dropping what they had been carrying. That same figure was the one that recovered first.

“What in tarnation are y'all doin’ screamin’ like that?” Fiddleford asked, his voice cracking as he tried to come down from the fear the twins had sent spiking through him; the accent coming out full force.

“Lee hit a button-,” began Ford.

“-and then you came out of the room!” Finished Lee.

Fiddleford sighed, clutching the front of his shirt gently, “Well, serves you right for touching things you weren’ supposed to. Wish it didn’t come at the expense of my heart though.”

“You are acting like you are an old man with a heart condition,” Lee said, calming down from the scare.

“You don’ know everythin’ about me, Stanley Pines.” Fidds shot back, a weak smile stretching onto his face. "For all you know, I am an old man." 

"Ew," Lee said, scrunching up his nose, "Ford's in love with an old man."

“What were you doing in there?” Ford asked, ignoring his brother's words, “That is a highly dangerous area, you could have been hurt or-“

“Or nothin’, their ain’t anythin’ in there but some very interesting lookin’ scraps,” Fiddleford said, holding up some weird glowing material, “I have never in my life seen somethin’ this interestin’; it just can’t be from our world.”

Lee and Ford gave each other confused looks, the younger twin reaching up and pulling down the sheet to reveal the empty portal room. Where the portal had once sat there was nothing. Larger sections of the portal laid on the ground surrounded by smaller scrap metals but that was it. It was almost like the portal had never been fixed or functional in the first place.

“Dang, Grunkle Dipper tore it down,” Lee sighed, “Wanted Fidds to see it in its glory.”

“This is good though, there is no saying what that button could have done, Lee.”

Fiddleford went back to picking up what he had dropped as they began to bicker; the teen moving over to one of the work spaces that didn’t look to crammed and placing things down. A bigger chunk of metal hit the desk with a loud noise which made Fidds wince.

The vibration of the object falling seemed to open a door above him. Curiosity got the better of Fiddleford and before he knew it he was standing on the chair and peering into the little compartment; staring at the one of the weirdest but most interesting things he had ever seen. It looked like a snow globe but what was inside was like a small living piece of space that swirled around every so often.

“Hey Fiddlenerd!” Lee’s voice said from behind him, making the boy give a small shout in fear and lose his footing on the already unstable chair.

Lee caught him before he could fall to the ground, a smirk on his face as he stared down at his friend in his arms.

“I always knew you would fall for me in the end, Fidds.”

Ford scoffed behind Lee, his mouth puckering up in disapproval for the bad joke. Fidds let himself blush lightly as Lee set him down.

“Sorry, just…”

“No need to make an excuse,” Lee waved the apology off, “I know am irresistible, it was only a matter of time before you found who you truly should be crushing on. Now, what was little Fiddles looking at?”

Lee climbed up on the unstable chair, Fiddleford moving to hold onto it so Lee didn’t fall like he had. The boy stood on his toes and peered into the little compartment.

“Whoa!” Lee said, reaching in and bringing out the object, “Look at the cosmic snow globe!”

Ford’s eyes widened seeing the ‘cosmic snow glob’; the boy’s hand twitching a little when Lee just jumped down from the chair without much care. His gaze never broke from it as Lee held it up between the three of them. The small piece of space moving around inside as if greeting the new eyes that were watching it closely.

* * *

“I just don’t understand what we are not thinking of!” Stanford was finishing his rant as he paced in front of his brother and Dipper. The man’s hair was sticking up more wildly. “If we have been trying to figure this out for over twenty-four hours as you say, Stanley, then we should have figured this out!”

“And that is why I suggested a coffee break,” Dipper sighed, bringing the conversation back to what it had been about originally, “Though, it seems it is a rest of the day break at this point.”

Stan nodded, obviously he had been trying to follow along but when Stanford was stressed he tended to talk faster than Stan could really comprehend. Slowly, the man pushed himself up from his seat and grabbed his twin’s shoulders.

“Stop.” Stan said, freezing the man. Stanford glared at his brother but didn’t say anything.

“Now breathe,” Stan said, slowly taking his hands off his brother’s shoulders as the other man took a deep breath.

A wave of calm washed over Stanford after the one deep breath, the irrational rant that had started from the small and simple explanation of what they had been doing starting to seem ridiculous. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had done it in the first place.

“Ford, I know you don’t want to be stuck in another ‘not home’ dimensions,” Stan said, “But this place could be worse and you will figure it out eventually. You just need to take a breather. Pull up a beer and enjoy the fact we aren't in a dangerous, 'we are going to die' kind of place.”

Stanford nodded, running a hand through his graying hair. The logic Stan was giving him was hard to deny and maybe he was stressing over this a little too much.

“You are right,” Stanford relented.

“Course I am,” Stan laughed, “You are the smart one but I am the right one. This is how things work, now let me tell you about our rambunctious mini-doubles. You will not believe who they have over right now-.”

“They have someone over?” Dipper asked, a confused expression crossing his face.

Stan glanced at the alternate version of his nephew, “Yeah. Cute kid, kind of on the sassy side which I personally never got to experience but hey, in my world he isn't too right in the head so maybe he was always like that.”

The confused look on Dipper's face turned into one of concern as the man stood up and strode out of the room. The sound of his boots on the stairs echoed into the room, both Stan and Stanford looking at each other with a matching look of confusion on their faces. A few seconds later Dipper came down the stairs at a much faster pace.

“Mabel!” Dipper shouted, moving past the hallway in the direction of the Shack’s gift shop. "Mabel the twins are missing!"

“What? Really, I thought playing their game upstairs,” Mabel sighed, appearing in the hallway to look at Dipper's retreating back. “Where would they even- oh no.”

Her eyes widened and she quickly began to follow her brother, the movement also spurring the other two men to follow them. 

“Oh no? What is oh no?” Stanford asked, catching up with Mabel's quick footsteps.

“Think, Sixer. Where would you and me like to go if we were the kids in this situation,” Stan said, catching on to what was happening as they entered the gift shop. Dipper had pulled open the not fully shut hidden door and disappeared down the stairs with Mabel following behind him.

Stanford looked at his twin confused before his eyes widened as the realization hit him; the old man broke into a run as they headed towards the elevator. He was the first one on the contraption and the first one out when they got to the third level of the basement. He hoped with all his might that they were wrong but the sight that greeted him killed that hope. 

“Stanley put that down!”

The sudden shout made three pairs of eyes turn towards them in shock; the rift in Lee's loose grip. The sudden shout made the boy jump in fight. The world seemed to move in slow motion as the rift slipped from his fingers and plummeted towards the floor.


	17. Mistakes Were Made

Stanford was frozen in fear as he watched the Rift begin to fall. In this moment he would have to relive an experience he would rather avoid; another Weirdmageddeon to fight through. Everything, ever fear he had pushed back or thought was gone suddenly came crashing back to him like a tidal wave in the few seconds that they were stuck watching the rift begin its plummet to the ground.

It seemed to move in slow motion as the rift was caught by the sandy haired boy standing next to Ford. The child seemed to have snapped out of the shock of being caught down stairs and moved fast to catch the rift just as it was about to hit the ground and shatter.

The moment now was frozen like that. The boy on the ground, holding the rift to his chest; eyes wide and breathing heavy. Ford standing across from his brother with his eyes moving slightly as if he was trying to come up with an excuse for being down here. Lee was just standing there as still as a statue as he stared up at Stanford.

“What are you three doing down here?” Stanford heard Mabel ask from behind him, the woman moving past him as she looked over the three of them.

Stanford glanced at her before looking at the outstretched hands of Lee; the hands that had been holding the Rift just moments ago before he dropped it. The thought was the spark that lit the fuse within Stanford.

“W-we-,” Ford began but his alternate self-cut him off.

“What were you thinking? Do you even know what you were holding in your hands right now?” Stanford started, moving towards the smaller version of his Stanley.

“I-I just...” Lee stuttered. His eyes widening at the sudden attention on him from a man he had barely spoken to, the child tripping over himself as he backed away, “I thought it w-was cool and F-.”

“Cool,” Stanford ground out; the need to make this boy understand this situation was making his voice raise into a shout, “that is a rip in the universe! If it had successfully shattered, you could have begun the end of the world! You shouldn’t have been handling things you don’t understand or even be down here!”

“I-I didn’t…I-I wasn’t-… I didn't know, I'm sorry.” Lee struggled to get out, tears starting to appear in the child’s eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

“Sorry wouldn't have fixed anything if it had broken!" Stanford said, suddenly getting a weird mix in his head of being older and younger while staring down at the scared face of Lee, "Why can't you use your brain; you never think before you do things, Stanley!”

Tears were leaking from the brown eyes of his alternate brother, the child stuttering out noises but not able to get a single word in. Lee looked ready to run or curl up into a ball then and there. 

“Hey!” Ford shouted, moving between his alternate self and his brother, “Stop talking to him like that! It was an accident; he didn’t know what it was!”

Stanford looked down into his younger self’s face; the sudden interjection snapping him out of his rage. The moment becoming distorted as reality started to settle back in around him once again.

“Yeah!” A new voice chimed in, “Stanley wasn’ doin’ anything but showin’ us it and it wouldn’ have dropped if you hadn’ been shoutin’.”

The accent was what fully shattered the allusion his confused brain was giving him, his head turning to look at the child that had caught the Rift. The offending object was in Dipper’s hands now, the man seemed to have been advancing on Stanford before Ford had said something. The child standing next to him was clearly someone he wasn’t expecting, Fiddleford McGucket.

“Look, I don’ know who you think you are but this was all an accident,” Fidds continued moving so he was between Ford and Stanford, “And sure we shouldn’ have been down here bu- oh. Oh this just makes it ten times worse.”

Now getting a better view of Stanford, the southerner glanced between the boy behind him and back up at the man in front of him. The shock that had been there turned into a scowl on the child's face as he sent one of the most gut wrenching glares up at the man. 

Stanford jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, he turned his head to find his brother. Stan's face was cold as stone; his eyes not fully meaning Stanford's as he pulled him back towards the elevator. Dipper moved past them as they retreated from the basement and looked down at the boys.

“You really shouldn’t be down here, there is more than just things like the Rift in this place. I have some things that could hurt you seriously.” Dipper’s voice was calm as he kneeled down so he was eye level with the boys.

"We're sorry, Great Uncle Dipper," Ford began, his voice soft though he didn't move from his place between the adults and Lee.

“We’ll be upstairs,” Stan whispered to Mabel; the woman nodding in acknowledgement as she went to join her twin brother. Her arms outstretched and ready to pull Lee into a tight hug.

The two brothers entered the elevator without a word, the doors closing and stopping any noise. The ride up to the main floor of the house was silent; tension wafting off Stan in waves and guilt circling Stanford's gut. They got as far as the hallway before Stan finally cracked, the anger and pain leaking out of the stone-faced exterior. 

“What the hell was that, Ford?” Stan said, “I get that the Rift is bad and could unleash the ends of time again but he’s a kid! He didn’t even know what was happening.”

“I… I don’t know,” Stanford said, the image of his alternate-self stepping between him and his brother going through his head, “I just- the severity of the situation took hold and everything went red. I didn’t mean what I said to him. You have to believe that Stanley, I don’t think you are always rash I was just-.”

“-Using the usual things that we used when we got into argument,” Stan finished, sighing heavily, “I get it, but he isn't me... not really. I have been spending the whole day with that kid and his brother and just watching him. He...” Stan shook his head, pushing away the thought, "Point is you are going to have to fix this or Mabel is going to kill you and hide your body where no one is going to be able to find it."

Stanford opened his mouth to say something but stopped when Mabel and the kids came into the hallway. Lee was in her arms, his face buried in her sweater as he clung tightly to his great aunt. Upon seeing the two, Fiddleford and Ford sent Stanford glares that would have killed him if they had any supernatural powers. Mabel looked over the both of them before whispering something to Lee and setting the child down. Lee didn't look up from his feet as he took Ford's outstretched hand and the kids hurried past the men and towards the stairs.

Mabel moved so she was beside them both, a conflicted look on her face. She looked like she wanted to yell and be angry but at the same time just show utter disappointment in the man that had lost his temper at her great nephew.

“I am not going to say what I already think you know what you have to do,” she said to Stanford after much thought, "But I expect you to do it after you both fully calmed down. I’ll get you some of Dipper’s spare pajamas and you can take a shower.”

“I am sorr-,” Stanford began, but Mabel held up a hand to cut him off.

“I am not the one that needs to hear it,” she glanced at Stan and gave him a small smile before looking back at Stanford. “Just, try to do it before you and my brother go and hide in the basement again.”

With that she left, following the direction the boys had went before veering off to probably go get what she said she was going to. Stanford let Stan lead him towards the room they were staying in. He didn’t even glance around at the changes that were probably in the study, the man just sat on the couch and hid his face in his hands.

* * *

Silence had encompassed the house as everyone turned in early for bed. Mabel entered her room after giving Stanford some of Dipper's extra clothes; not even surprised to find her brother setting up the cot from the basement up in her room. She was a little impressed that he had found space in the messy room. 

"So," she said, trying to sound casual, "When were you going to tell us you had a world ending snow globe in the basement?" 

Dipper froze in the middle of putting a pillow case on his pillow, the man cringing at the words his sister had said. 

"I just found it a few days ago," he said, worrying his bottom lip. The man refused to fully meet his twin's eyes. 

"So why didn't you tell us then?" Mabel said, her voice an eerie calm. 

"I was going to when I got it contained safely," Dipper said, frantically trying to cover that base, "Which was yesterday when I finally finished it up but then a disturbance set off old equipment and the alternates appeared... I lost the chance to explain it. I was going to tell you all, Mabel, you have to believe me of that. The time of keeping secrets from each other is over." 

Mabel's stony exterior melted and she sat on her bed with a heavy sigh. 

"Okay, I guess as excuses go that one isn't your worst," she said, trying to bring up the mood. She sent a smile over to her brother but Dipper did not smile back. 

"Mabel," he said, moving so sit next to his sister, "What is wrong?" 

Mabel's mind ran over the story she had gotten Stan to tell her earlier that day. Some parts seemed to have been brushed over but there was one hurried spot in the story that seemed to match up to what had happened in the basement an hour ago. 

"Did I create that, by bringing you back?" 

Dipper stared at his sister, unsure how to answer that question. His face was all Mabel needed though; the woman groaned and hid her face in her hands. 

"I knew it," she said, "I brought you back but I threatened the world in the process. Ug, why can't I do one important thing right?" 

"Mabel Pine! You do a lot of things right," Dipper said, moving her face away from her hands so she was looking at him, "You have given those boys the best summer of their lives, you made a life for yourself in this town, you pulled me out of some of the darkest places, and you are an all over wonderful person. This is just another problem that we are going to fix together." 

Mabel stared at her twin, brown eyes wide behind her cat-eye glasses. The woman smiled a watery smile before pulling Dipper into a tight hug. 

"You have become such a sap," she said though the words were muffled since he face was buried in her shoulder, "A stinky sap. You need a shower." 

Dipper laughed, patting her back gently. "Showers are a waste of time when perusing greater knowledge."

"No, they really aren't." Mabel said, pulling away from her brother. Her nose was scrunched up in disgust but a smile was threatening to appear on her face. "Go clean up, stinky." 

Dipper stuck out his tongue at his twin, but did as she asked. He was just happy her high spirits were back and she was smiling again.

 


	18. Nice Cream

The house creaked and groaned in its usual way as night fully settled around the building. It had been an early turn in for everyone in the house after the events that happened in the basement, the sun was still setting when they had all parted ways as it had only been a little after eight.

Lee had freed himself from the blankets that he had been hiding under since getting back up to their room. Now he was staring up at the rafters of the attic and trying to get his mind off how he could have ruined everything. In a split second he could have unleashed the end of the world. He sniffled, struggling to hold back tears so not to wake the two sleeping occupants of the room.

Lee glanced over at them; Ford and Fidds always shared the bed when Fidds slept over even though Ford had complained about the sleep kicking the southerner seemed to do since their first sleepover. He watched the involuntary action bother his twin before the boy rolled over and placed an arm over his friend; the contact seeming to calm Fidds down from his dream.

If he hadn’t been in a funk Lee probably would have searched for his camera to get a picture of the moment, but he wasn’t in the mood. Quietly as he could he pulled the blanket off him, grabbed his glasses from the table between the two beds, and padded his way across the wood floor to the door. He made sure to open the door slowly so it didn’t creak as he snuck down the stairs.

The house was silent except for the sound of muffled talking coming from his Great Aunt’s room, the two voices sounding like her and Dipper. He stopped outside the room, staring at the sliver of light that was escaping from under the door before moving on. He really wanted another hug from her but at the same time he didn't want to disturb them if they were talking. Lee decided to move to the next form of comfort in this house; the kitchen.

The boy stood in the doorway with his bare feet touching the cold of the tiled floor. Glancing back at the sliver of light he decided to keep the kitchen lights off. He padded over to the sink to grab the step stool under it, pulling it over to the fridge so he could get to the freezer door. His sad face brightening a little seeing a fresh tub of ice cream settled amongst the frozen foods.

Ice cream always made things better, Lee reasoned with himself as he grabbed it and jumped off the step stool. He placed the tub of ice cream on the counter before pulling the stool over so he could access the cabinet doors. He grit his teeth when his hand brushed the bowl he wanted, the child resigning himself to having to climb up onto the counter to reach it.

The creak of the floor behind him made the small teenager freeze mid reach for the bowl. His eyes widened a little behind his glasses as he turned his head fast ready to come up with an excuse or distraction that would let me get out of the kitchen fast. Anything he had planned died as his heart skipping a beat in his chest out of fear seeing who it was.

Stanford Pines, the alternate version of his brother, stood there looking just as shocked. In one of his six fingered hands he was holding a baseball bat he must have found in the spare room, whatever he was going to use it for wasn’t something Lee wanted to figure out.

“Oh, it is you,” Stanford said, lowering the weapon, “I thought there may have been a gnome infestation or…”

The man trailed off, a hesitant and uncertain look crossing his face. His eyes observed the child carefully; deer caught in the headlights look, weird rainbow plaid pajama pants, crooked square-framed glasses, slightly red eyes probably from crying. The man let his gaze fall onto the ice cream next to the child before he made the child uncomfortable with staring at the wreck he had left the child in. 

“You… you don’t mind sharing that, do you?”

“Huh?” Lee said, finding his voice. He looked between the man’s gaze and the treat a few times before shaking his head no. “Oh, I-, no I don’t mind.”

Lee turned and grabbed another bowl before closing the cabinet. He slid off the counter and landed on the floor without a sound; he only sent a glance back at Stanford for a second before moving to grab the ice cream scoop from the drawer.

Stanford carefully moved into the kitchen and turned on the light, the sudden illumination made Lee hiss in pain and blink his sensitive eyes a couple of times.

“Sorry,” Stanford said.

“It’s fine,” was the mumbled reply as Lee recovered from the sudden assault from the light. The child stood on the step stool and opened the ice cream tub, he began to hum softly to himself as he scooped out some for him and Stanford. The simple nonsensical tune calming him down some as he went through the motions.

Lee stopped humming when he was done and placed the scoop into the sink to be cleaned later before he grabbed spoons from another drawer. Lee placed the utensils in the ice cream, grabbed his bowl, and left the kitchen without saying a word to Stanford. The silence, on its own, made the man wince.

Lee moved down the hallway and entered the living room, his destination being the comfort of his great aunt’s old recliner. He hopped up onto the old chair and sighed; the boy bringing his knees to his chest to balance the slowly chilling bowl. Lee didn’t search for the remote, fine with just sitting in the dark and staring at the blank screen.

He picked at the frozen dairy treat slowly, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the sugar that was attempting to lift his spirits.

“Stanley-.”

The sudden, deep voice of his alternate twin made the boy jump; the ice cream almost falling off its badly balanced perch. The child opened his eyes to send a glare towards the man standing in the doorway.

 _Why is he following me?_ The earlier fear was starting to turn into annoyance and anger at the man. He had done his damage, he was more then welcome to leave him alone now.

Stanford rubbed the bridge of his nose, obviously struggling with what he wanted to say. This didn’t stop the him from walking into the dark living room towards Lee and taking a seat in one of the chairs that had, for some reason, been placed near the recliner.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Stanford said, playing with his own bowl of ice cream. “Or yell at you down stairs. I was just concerned...and scared.”

This exchange confused the child; Lee’s glare melting as he looked at the graying man next to him. It was still his brother, he had to remind himself, still the same Stanford but older and a little rougher around the edges.

“Why... why were you scared of it?” Lee asked, his voice sounded quiet to his own ears but loud to Stanford’s.

The man looked up, surprised that the boy actually was listening to him and not ignoring him. His mouth moved for a second but no words came out; the proper way to explain this to this smaller version of Stanley was difficult for some strange reason. Innocent red-rimmed eyes peering at him behind familiar glasses just adding to the pile of guilt that was burying him and making it hard to speak. He never was good with kids... or people in general.

Stanford broke the eye contact and stared at the melting bowl of ice cream for a second before an idea hit him.

“It is like this ice cream,” Stanford said slowly, “Imagine it if it had melted completely but was still contained in this bowl. Now, think of what would happen if I dropped the bowl with the melted ice cream in it."

“That would get everywhere?” Lee said, tilting his head to the side. He wasn't following where Stanford was going with this, maybe Ford was going to get senile in his old age.

“Exactly, the bowl would shatter or at least spill over. There would be a mess. What you had been holding down there was a small drop of a mess from another world, if it had broken your universe would have become-,”

“A sticky mess?” Lee finished, the child now leaning closer to Ford. His legs were no longer protectively pulled to his chest; the child looking over at Stanford's bowl before his own.

“In a weird way,” Stanford said, “Yes, but my fears gave me no right to talk to you like that or say some of the things I said.”

Lee looked up from his bowl of ice cream to look at Stanford directly, a sad and pleading look was behind the old man’s eyes. Lee bit his bottom lip as he moved back some; hugging his treat to his chest. He wanted to forgive this Ford but-

“I know sorry probably won’t cut it for this situation,” Stanford continued. There was a pause between the both of them, Lee looking away from the man to stare at his melting ice cream.

“But I'm pretty sure scissors could,”Stanford said, a weak smile on his face as the joke slipped out.

Lee snorted, completely losing the battle to stay hurt or mad at the man. That joke was badly timed and perfectly corny; the perfect thing to make Lee give up his attempts to stay mad at Stanford.

“Oh my God, you are such a nerd,” the child whined, finally letting his laughter out. Stanford’s laugh joined his as the tension melted off of them. Lee smiled up at the man, hesitation still there but it seemed to have lessened a good amount. Trust and adoration were starting to light up those brown eyes of the alternate Stanley. The braces filled smile that Lee was giving him warmed a spot in Stanford’s heart and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey, what’s that?” Lee suddenly asked, pointing to the man’s neck with his spoon.

Stanford looked confused for a second, sliding his hand over the area pointed at before his smile vanished and an embarrassed blush painted his cheeks.

“It,” he coughed, looking away but keeping the hand over the mark, “It is just a tattoo.”

“No way!” Lee said, eyes brightening in excitement, "Can I see it!?!"

"Ah, maybe later," Stanford stuttered out, "Eat your ice cream before it melts."

* * *

Stan snickered to himself, as he moved around the recliner quietly. He had woken up a little after Mabel had and walked into the T.V. room to find his brother and alternate self fast asleep on the recliner. Lee curled up on Stanford, both of them with their glasses probably digging into their faces, and Stanford's hand on the small of Lee's back to keep him close as they snored through the late morning.

The urge to bother his twin, even to the expense of his alternate self, had been too great to ignore.When Ford and Fiddleford had appeared downstairs a half-hour later he had quickly gotten them in on the plan. Now Stanford and Lee were surrounded by blankets and a fort was being built around them with what pillows and blankets could be found.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ford whispered as he placed another pillow around the two sleeping on the recliner.

“Course this is a good idea,” Stan said, “I thought of it.”

“Think that may be why he is questioning it,” Fidds said, the boy throwing a blanket over the pillow towers beside the chair. “Though it ain’t like we are drawing on their faces, Stanford.”

Ford glanced at the obvious pen marks on the sleeping man’s face before sighing. He hadn’t been there for that part of this little mischievous scheme; wasn’t his problem what happened to Stanford even I he felt the pain of seeing one’s own face have ‘Nerd’ written across its forehead.

“Well,” Ford sighed, grabbing the last blanket from the pile Stan had managed to collect and throwing it over their creation to hide the two from sight, “At least I am sure that Lee will find this hilarious.”

Stan smirked and patted the boy’s back.

“That is the spirit, kid,” he said.

Mabel appeared in the doorway and took a sip from her coffee mug. Her eyes scanned over the what had been her recliner, great nephew, and house guest a few moments ago.

“Have to admit, this is pretty tame for a Stanley joke,” she said, “You must be getting soft in your old age.”

Stan looked at her and crossed his arms, “I am taming it because technically I am also being pranked. If it was just Ford, he would already be up and chasing be around the Shack trying to get revenge.”

Fidds giggled at that, picturing it clearly in his head. He had seen his fair share of the younger twins getting into prank wars that almost ended in injury. Imaging the older versions doing the same wasn’t that hard to see or any less hilarious.

"Come on you pranksters," Mabel said with a laugh, "Breakfast is ready." 

The boys cheered as quietly as they could manage so not to disturb the sleeping people in the room; both of teens hurried out of the room to head towards the kitchen. 

"You were supposed to let me cook this morning," Stan grumbled, giving her a look. 

Mabel just smiled and gave a little shrug, "Eh, I had some time to kill waiting for you all to get your lazy butts up. Taking pictures of them can only entertain you for so long." 

Stan glanced over at the blanket fort, a smirk forming on his face. 

"Pictures you say?" 

"Wanna see," Mabel said, pulling a camera out of her robe pocket. 

"You know I do."


	19. Right Under Our Noses

A paper ball flew back from the kitchen table as Stan walked into the room.

“Hey! Watch it!” Stan said as he dodged the projectile and sent his glare to one of the two occupants of the kitchen, his brother. 

Stanford had been up for about an hour. Apparently awakening to darkness and ink on your face seems to irritate old men with important work, as Stan had learned. Luckily when your child alternate is there to calm the rage, and the fact he was out of the house with the two other kids, Stan didn’t get much of a back-lash except a nice marker line across his cheek from his twin.

“Sorry Stanley,” Stanford sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Just with Dipper asleep and me not able to access his work I just feel like we are getting behind on finding a way to get home.”

“Hey,” Stan said, losing his earlier annoyance at his brother to go over and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “It will all work out in the end. Like I said yesterday, at least we aren’t in any death dimension. There is no rush to get us home.”

Stanford gave a sigh and nodded, “I know, but it doesn’t make me want to slow down. I would appreciate getting back to our actual research and our world before someone notices we are missing in our world.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Stan said, turning his head when the sound of running feet passed by the room. None of the kids appeared in the door way so it was assumed they were just playing, “Hope time isn’t moving too fast in our world.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” Stanford groaned, letting his pen clatter onto the table, “It completely slipped my mind the time difference between our worlds. That could be a big deciding factor on if we can travel back the same way.”

Stan grimaced. He really hadn't meant to make the situation more stressful for his brother. Mabel sighed from where she sat at the table with Stanford. The women put down her knitting needles and pulled the paper away from the man. This conversation was going down a slippery slope and now was a good time to remind them that she was here and that they were stressing too much over this.

“There is no use moaning about it,” she said, “It will get figured out eventually.”

“What will get figured out?”

The adults turned their heads to look at the new person that spoke, finding Ford standing in the doorway with a marker drawn yellow star on his face. The boy moved into the room and peered at the paper that Mabel had pulled away from his alternate.

“Peanut,” Mabel said, “Why do you have marker on your face?”

Ford looked up from the paper, rubbing the offending cheek with a small frown on his face.

“Lee got it in his head to do ‘Stan’s Guide to Tattooing’ suddenly,” the boys sighed, “Luckily he doesn’t have a real tattoo needle or I would not have let him draw on me or Fidds.”

Stanford’s ears went red when he heard that and Stan couldn’t help but snicker. Both of them had a pretty good idea where Lee had gotten the idea to do such a thing. Stanford began to regret giving into the younger Stanley's begging last night when he spotted another marker drawn star peeking over the collar of Ford's shirt.

“Oh, well it is nice to see him expressing himself,” Mabel said with a smile, “Think he could give me one?”

Ford chuckled, “I think he would be happy to have a willing costumer to his tattoo parlor.”

The child turned his attention to the paper; his eyebrows scrunched up in new found concentration as he read over the identical loopy hand writing. Stanford sent a look to Stan as if asking if that is how he looked when he was deep in thought. Stan just gave a small nod and watched the smaller Ford.

“This is what you were working on downstairs, isn’t it?” Ford asked as he looked up at Stanford after a few moments.

“Yes,” Stanford confirmed, “Dip- your great uncle and I have been working on this since the day we arrived. We have been stuck on trying to find how exactly we are going to find a wormhole stable enough to get our theoretical device to function properly and take me and Stan home. We thought reversing engineering the portal would give us some clues but the stage of deconstruction the portal was in; it really didn’t give us any clues.”

“So you are looking for a stable wormhole like the bottomless pitt?” Ford asked as he looked up from the paper.

“What?” The man asked, his mind momentarily short circuiting.

“Uh, the bottomless pitt?” Ford said, a little uncertain, “I mean, it acts kind of like a wormhole I guess. I am not sure if it really is a wormhole. Just with things getting dropped in it and sometimes they don’t show back up. People seem to be a little much for it but you never know, it could work. I-I mean if you and Great Uncle Dipper already thought of it and decided it wouldn’t…”

Ford trailed off when Stanford groaned and buried his face in his arms. Ford looked at his alternate self before looking up at Stan and then looking at Mabel; a worried expression his face. Stan cracked up laughing at his brother’s actions, the man having to lean against his twin’s chair to stay up.

“Did…did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, I just thought…” Ford asked, not understanding what was happening. The innocent question making Mabel chuckle. She leaned over and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“No,” Stanford sighed as he looked up from where his face was hidden to stare at the marker covered face of his younger double, “You did everything perfectly right. How did we not think of using that pitt?”

“Because you were looking for the complicated sciencey answer?” Stan supplied unhelpfully, gaining a glare from both of the Fords.

“Oh, it happens to the best of us,” Mabel said with a smile, “Sometimes it is best to look at the answer through the eyes of a child.”

“Yes,” Stanford said, sending a smile to his younger alternate, “I guess it does. Though now the complication is how we are going to create something small enough but strong enough to open the hole of the bottomless pitt into our world and let us cross through safely.”

Ford grinned at those words.

“I think I know just the person to help you,” the boy said before hurrying out of the room.

* * *

Dipper pulled himself to consciousness slowly, the main factor of this wake up being the twinge of pain in his back from sleeping on the old cot. A low groan escaped his lips as he rolled onto his side and rubbed his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, the sleep was well needed and despite the aches of aging he felt ready to tackle the current issue head on.

Dipper looked around the room, not too surprised to find his sister out already. Mabel never had been one to sit around in her room when there was a day to be had and explored.

Pushing himself from the old cot he moved across the room to look at the clock she had by her bed. He squinted at the small numbers before his eyes widened.

“Two-thirteen!” He exclaimed, “I couldn’t have spelt that long…Mabel should have…”

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. There was nothing he could do about it now, he would just have to use this new found rest to work twice as hard to make up for this lost time.

The man pushed the door open the rest of the way, not questioning why it was open just a crack. He followed the sound of voices towards the kitchen. He smiled, ready to greet the family but stopped short seeing what was happening around the small kitchen table.

Everyone was around it. The kids seemed to have marker drawings all over them, though Lee had the most. Fiddleford was sitting next to Ford; who was leaning over something with Stanford. Mabel was letting Lee draw a heart on her cheek. Stan was the one who noticed him, having been leaning against the wall and drinking a can of soda.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” he said, a smirk on his face.

Everyone in the room turned to look at him when Stan said that. The eyes staring at Dipper probably were justified in that he had been sleeping all day and no one had expected him to wake up today.

“Hi?” he said uncertainly, “What is going on here?”

Stanford beamed at the question, holding up the watch he had been wearing when he had arrived. Parts of it were littered across the table showing it hadn’t just been a regular time piece.

“Your great nephew figured out what we were missing,” He said, “The missing variable was the bottomless pit! A perfectly functional and reliable wormhole sitting in your own backyard ready to be tapped into as a source.”

Dipper stared, before face palming.

“Of course! Why didn’t we think of that?”

Lee snorted, finishing Mabel’s heart. “Because you guys are so smart you have to have dumb moments to balance it out.”

“Says the guy with a smiley face star on his face,” Ford remarked to his twin.

“You are just jealous because I didn’t finish your star,” Lee said before sticking his tongue out at his brother.

Stanford ignored the children and carefully slid the watch part off the paper to hold it out for Dipper to take. Dipper took the offered item and looked over it, eyebrows raising at the scribbles of writing and mix of handwritings.

“Fiddleford and I have been working on rewiring my watch,” the man explained, “You see, I made this device to detect anomalies but it would be the ideal size and weight of something that could be created to travel across dimensions.”

“Fiddleford?” Dipper asked, confused. He knew his great nephew’s friend had a knack for robotics but this seemed a little out of the way for a thirteen-year-old boy.

“Oh yes,” Stanford said, “The boy is remarkably bright for his age. Though it was no surprise to me.”

Fidds blushed from where he was sitting. The child moving fast to hide his face behind his bangs when he caught sight of Dipper looking at him.

“It’s just, we are going to need some of the things that you have down in the lab, Dr. Pines,” Fidds said more to his shoes then Ford’s great uncle, “To get this device to work properly. Least for it to work properly within theory.”

“That is why it is good you are up,” Stanford said, “I don’t know your code into the basement.”

Dipper glanced at his sister who was sending him a look over Stanford’s shoulder. One that clearly read that the man hadn’t asked her for the code during the time he was up here working. Stan rolled his eyes this was a comment that really didn’t justify a response.

“Well, we better get started then,” Dipper said, deciding not to comment. “Fiddleford if you want to come along-,”

“Right!” The boy said as he hurried to collect the watch and the scattered parts. Ford got up as well and helped his friend grab the remaining pieces. They both followed them men out, with Ford taking up the rear of the line to grab any pieces that fell out of his friend’s arms.

Lee watched them go with a pout on his freckled face.

“Fidds said I could finish his tatt when he was done talking about the device,” Lee whined, “How am I supposed to finish it if they are in the basement being nerds?”

Stan glanced at the child before laying his arm down in front of him, “Go nuts. Just nothing too cute, alright? I got a reputation to uphold.”


	20. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!  
> This and the next chapter were not edited to my best ability due to real life. If you see any mistakes point them out to me in a RESPECTFUL manner. Thank you.

Things were going smoothly in the basement, at least as smoothly as having two scientists and two children working on a dimension hopping device could be. Dipper and Ford were sitting at the desks trying to figure out the exact calculations needed to get the device to take Stanford and Stan back to their dimension.

Fiddleford has practically dragged Stanford to the work space where they were continuing to work on the watch. The boy would dart in and out of the portal room to grab pieces. It almost seemed like he didn’t need the man at all.

Every once and awhile Dipper would look over at his nephew and see the boy watching Fidds talking happily to Stanford or tinkering with the remains of the watch. It was like the child was keeping an eye on his friend’s movements.

“Dr. Pines,” the sudden southern voice behind him made the man jump out of his musings.

Fiddleford stood behind him with thick gloves on and a welding helmet on his head that looked a little too big for him.

“Do you know where the welding torch is?”

Fidds asked the question with a very serious expression on his young face. Dipper found himself moving across the room and locating the old thing before he had a thought about how he had handed a child a device made to melt metal.

Fiddleford held the welding torch like it was the most amazing and precious thing that he had ever received from anyone. Dipper couldn’t help but stare down at the child and wonder if he should have handed it over to the kid when he asked.

“Um, are you sure you need that?” Dipper asked.

Fiddleford looked up at the man with a serious expression on his young face.

“Yes, I am sure,” the southerner said before pulling the welding mask over his face and running off.

Dipper thought it over again and scratched his head, “Why does he need to weld when they are working on a small device?”

Ford was spinning on the rolling chair and just shrugged, “Who knows. I personally think Fidds just likes fire.”

“Fiddleford wait!” Stanford’s frantic voice rang from the other side of the room where they had been working. A burst of light came from the other side of the room before Stanford stumbled out from where he was hidden.

“Well,” Stanford sighed, “I don’t have to shave now.”

“Sorry!” Fidds voice echoed from the back before more light lit up the corner.

Dipper looked over the chard ends of Stanford’s jacket.

“Does he really need that?”

“If there is one thing I know about a Fiddleford H. McGucket of any dimension,” Stanford said, patting down his smoking shoulder, “Is that once he has his mind set on something there is no stopping him. Besides, we can’t get those wires to melt together without it.”

Ford chuckled to himself behind the two men, the boy amused with his friend’s antics.

“Fidds knows what he is doing,” the boy said with confidence, “If he didn’t then I don’t think he could have built some of the robots like he did.”

“I’m going to go make sure he has some supervision anyway,” Dipper said as he started to head in the direction that Stanford had come, “Can’t leave him alone.”

Both of the Fords watched him go, neither of them that concerned for Fiddleford’s safety. The light had shown up again from that area and most likely in an hour or so the device would be complete with a very smug Fiddleford McGucket holding it out to them.

Stanford sighed as a sense of nostalgia washed over him.

“You know,” Stanford said as he leaned on the desk that Dipper had been working at, “the first time I met Fiddleford was at college. My first impression of him was the first night in our dorm, he blew up whatever he had been working on. I woke up with a start to find him sitting on the floor, hair and clothing charged but with the biggest grin on his face. Thought he was a mad man.”

Ford stopped spinning on the chair and looked at his alternate self curiously, “So…you didn’t like him?”

“Oh no,” Stanford said, a grin on his face, “I was fascinated by him. A mind like his at a second rate school; experimenting in our shared dorm at three in the morning. He was a mad man but also…”

Stanford trailed off, not sure where to continue that statement. Fidds had been the first person who understood him enough. That didn’t care about his hands and just accepted him as Stanford Pines. The first person to meet him without meeting the second half of the pair.

“Oddly brilliant?” Ford supplied hesitantly.

Stanford nodded, mind off in other places.

“Yes, that would work well to describe him. Oddly brilliant.” Stanford stared ahead of him for a few moments before looking down at the papers, “So what have you and your great uncle gotten done thus far?”

Ford slid off the seat so he was standing next to his alternate self, “We think we got the correct coordinates to set it to before you and your brother jump into the pit but there is no real way to test it before or once it is complete.”

“Basically, we are the test dummies.”

Ford nodded with a grimace, staring over the pencil marks on the paper.

“You know,” the child said slowly, “You don’t have to go back. We could test it on a dummy and make a whole new thing from scratch if it works-.”

“Ford,” Stanford said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We wouldn’t know if it had gone through if it had done that and also, Stanley and I have a home to get to. Our own Dipper and Mabel who need us there. As much as I enjoy this worlds oddities I think I have spent enough time away from my home dimension.”

Ford sighed, “I know. I just… do you think you will ever come back here? I barely got to talk to you or get to know you and it just… I like having another Stan and you here.”

“If I can get the device to work both ways I don’t see what is stopping me,” Stanford said, “But you can’t hold me to that statement.”

Ford looked up at his alternate with hope in his eyes. Obviously the boy was going to cling to that statement for a good long while. A shout of pain and another sorry coming from behind them made both of them chuckle. It didn’t seem they would be saying goodbye for a good amount of time with Fidds and Dipper on the case of building the device.

* * *

It was about two in the morning when the vending machine opened again and Stanford and Dipper appeared carrying the two fast asleep boys. The men wincing a little seeing the time but trying to ignore the fact that they had kept the boys up late.

“Are you sure Fiddleford’s father isn’t going to be worried about where his son is?” Stanford asked, shifting the child in his arms.

Dipper shook his head, a small frown on his face as he kicked the vending machine door closed.

“No, I don’t think Tate McGucket ever really cares were his son is,” the man sighed, “At least from what I have observed in the short amount of time being here.”

Stanford frowned at that, trying to get over that the man had said Tate and focus on the fact that this child version of his best friend seemed to not have the best parental figure in his life. The man looked down at the sleeping face on his shoulder and sighed. There wasn’t anything he could do and it seemed that Fidds was in capable hands with Dipper and Mabel.

They both carried the boys out of the gift shop and into the main house. The building was quiet except for the normal creaks and groans. It was a slow walk up the stairs. Dipper miming to be quiet as he opened the bed room door and let themselves in.

The room was laid out like Stanford remembered except a lack of Mabel’s glitter and Dipper’s notes. The side that had been Mabel’s, that was clearly Stanley’s in this universe, just had an empty bed. Dipper sighed, not alarmed by the fact that Lee was missing.

He set Ford down in his bed and took Fidds from Stanford to lay in Lee’s. Carefully he pulled the covers over the two of them and motioned to leave the room. When the door was shut and they were back down at the base of the stairs is when Stanford voiced his concern.

“Shouldn’t Lee be up there as well?”

“I am pretty sure one of us will find him soon,” Dipper yawned, “At this time of night if he isn’t in bed he is either with Mabel or sleeping on the recliner. For now, we should get to sleep. Tomorrow is the day.”

“Yes,” Stanford said, looking around the hall, “I suppose we should. Thank you, for the help you have given us.”

Dipper raised a hand and gave a good natured smile, “Hey, I would do it for anyone. I understand being stuck in another dimension.”

Stanford gave a weak laugh at the joke, though it stung a little knowing this version of his nephew had been running around the multi-verse. Dipper took it for what it was and patted the man’s shoulder before heading towards the room he was sharing with his sister.

Stanford heading to the spare room and stopped short at the door way. Stan and Lee were curled up on the bed snoring away. Marker was all over both of their faces and a book was laying on Stan’s stomach. It was a strange thing, seeing your twin twice like this. He debated carrying Lee upstairs to join his brother and Fiddleford but decided against it.

Stanford just moved across the room to grab the pajamas he was allowed to borrow and get ready for a short rest on the couch. Tomorrow, they were heading home.


	21. See You Later, Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE.   
> Remember: not edited well.

The morning had passed too fast for Mabel. She watched Stan and Lee making faces at each other over the breakfast table. Listened to the endless chatter between Fiddleford, Ford, and Stanford. Dipper sat beside her with a piece of toast in his mouth but full focused on an open book.

The whole scene around the breakfast table was as if two of them weren’t from another dimension and wouldn’t be jumping into the into the Bottomless Pitt.

What Dipper and Stanford had been working towards for the pasted few days was finally complete yet the whole thing seemed anti-climactic. There was no monster to beat, no great danger, no nothing but a few nerdy people down in the basement finishing a device to help take Stan and Stanford home.

She took her time taking up the empty plates to put into the sink as they alternate twins and the boys went to get ready for the day. Mabel stood at the empty sink until her brother put a hand on her should and gave her a small smile.

“Everything will be fine, Mabel,” Dipper said.

“I know,” Mabel said, “Just I guess it is the Grauntie instinct to worry over her great nephews no matter the dimension.”

Dipper chuckled, “Yes, but I think they can survive another small dimension hop.”

Mabel nodded and let her brother lead her out of the kitchen and into the yard. The walked around the house until they were facing the bottomless Pitt.

Lee and Ford had taken to clinging to their alternate twin’s leg and Fiddleford was trailing behind them. The two old men seeming to have given up trying to get them off and were slowly dragging their child clad leg towards the pitt.

Mabel couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. Her hand reaching for the camera in her robe pocket to snap a photo. Another memory for this very odd week.

“How about you just live here for the rest of your life?” She heard Lee plead up to Stanford as she got closer to them, “Or at least stay until our summer ends? Then we can have a mutual goodbye.”

“Stanley, as much as I enjoyed spending time with you,” Stanford said, trying to get the child off his leg, “I believe I am needed in my home dimension a little more than I am needed here.”

“Yeah,” Stan said looking at Lee on his brother before looking down at Ford on his own, “Besides, do you really want another nerd living in your house? I think you have a surplus of them.”

“Hey,” Ford pouted up at Stan. The comment only seemed to get the boy to cling tighter to the man’s leg.

“Boys,” Mabel said, “As much as I hate seeing them go as well I think it is best if you let them.”

Identical faces turned to pout at their great aunt from their alternate twin’s legs. She raised an eyebrow and held out a hand for them to take.

Slowly the boys let go of Stanford and Stan and moved over to their great aunt.

“Can you at least find a way to write to us?” Lee said as he sent a puppy-eyed look up at Stan.

Stan glanced at his brother as if in a silent question on if they could somehow find a way to write to this alternate world. Stanford made a face that Mabel could only guess meant ‘maybe’. Stan seemed to take the expression as that as well as he grinned at his child-sized double.

“I’ll do my best, squirt.”

Lee grinned, “I’m holding you to that, squirt.”

Dipper moved beside his sister as a small beeping noise started to come from his wrist. The man moving back his shirt’s sleeve and looking at his watch.

“I would think the world is in position for you to make the jump,” the scientist said as he looked back up at them.

“Then now it the best time to test it as any,” Stanford said as he pulled what used to be his watch out from his pocket.

“Test it?” Stan asked beside his brother, a worried look appearing on his face.

Stanford ignored him and took Mabel’s hand.

“Thank you for letting us stay here,” he said. Mabel laughed and pulled him into a tight hug.

“No matter what dimension,” she whispered into his ear, “You are my little peanut.”

Stanford’s ears went red at the nickname reserved for his alternate. The man hugging back awkwardly and pulling away first. His expression making Mabel chuckle.

“Now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” She said with a wink, “and if you do find a way to write tell us how so I can send you these pictures I took.”

“Hello! What do you mean by test it?” Stan said for about the fifth time during the exchange and was still being ignored.

“Nothing, Stanley,” Stanford said as he moved back over to his brother and pulled the other man towards the edge of the pitt.

Mabel placed a hand on her Ford’s shoulder and another on Lee’s. Stan and Stanford looked back at them. Beside her, she saw Dipper nod towards them and Fiddleford give the men a thumbs up. It seemed to be the signal they were looking for. They both jumped into the pitt and disappeared from view a moment later.

They all watched the pitt. It wasn’t known if they would get home if they didn’t show back up in a few minutes or hours. They could only wait and see if they didn’t show up which would mean they traveled successfully to somewhere.

“I do hope I calibrated that device right,” Fiddleford said, breaking the silence that hung between them.

“I am sure it is going to work perfectly fine, Fiddleford,” Dipper said, placing a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Mabel nodded. She let the twins break free of her hold so they could run over to the edge of the pitt and stare down into the inky blackness.

* * *

Stan clung tightly to his brother’s arm as they fell into the inky darkness that was the bottomless pit. The falling was just as he remembered it to be, a weird feeling of weightlessness that gave you no sense of direction. He looked up at where they had jumped from and found he could not see the entrance anymore.

“So, what is the plan here Sixer?” Stan sighed and glanced over at his twin.

Stanford was clumsily fiddling with the watch. In hindsight it looked like he should have put it on before they had jumped into the Bottomless Pitt.

“From what I know and what Ford knew about the pitt. We have to wait until we are about half-way through the descent before I can press anything and we can begin attempting to travel.”

Stan groaned, “Great. A theory is going to get us out of eternal falling.”

“Stanley,” Stanford sighed but didn’t continue the statement.

Stan let go of his brother’s arm and lazily spun himself around. The new found freedom of his arm gave Stanford an easier time to mess with the watch. As soon as it clicked onto his wrist it started to glow, the man’s eyes widening.

“We are falling at a faster rate than expected,” he exclaimed, blindly reaching to grab his spinning twin and pull him closer.

“Hold on,” Stanford said frantically as he pressed a few blinking buttons on the watch.

Stan did what he was told, holding onto his brother’s jacket and staring around at the darkness as it seemed to lighten with an odd blue light. As soon as the last button the blue light seemed to become lightening; the air around them crackled with electricity before a white flash blinded them and sent a shock through their bodies.

Stan opened his eyes slowly to find the normal blackness of the bottomless pitt still around him and Stanford holding onto him tightly with one hand.

“Good job,” Stan said, sarcasm dripping heavily off his words, “We didn’t go anywhere!”

“Stanley,” Stanford said. He obviously wasn’t paying attention to his twin’s words as the man was staring down at where they were falling towards.

Stan looked down and found the white circle of an exit approaching fast. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for the feeling of exiting the pit and the landing that came after it.

A jolt and the world seemed to flip on them as they were thrown out of the pitt. Stan landed face first with Stanford next to him on his back. A butterfly flew over them as if nothing had happened and a cool breeze blew the leaves of the trees.

Slowly Stan pushed himself up and groaned. He ran a hand over his face and looked around taking in the surroundings. It was clear that they weren’t back in the world they had come from and the Shack looked the same as it had when they had left it minus a few new attractions and an ‘under new management’ sign handing on the wall.

Stanford sat up and looked around. He carefully observed the natural signs of the seasons around him.

“Mr. Pines?” A familiar voice made them look over at the Gift Shop door. Soos stood at the entrance, a wide grin on his face as he ran over to where they were sitting.

“I thought you dudes were in the middle of the Atlantic!”

“We were,” Stan said as he held out a hand for Soos to take. The man did so immediately and helped pull the man to his feet.

“Then poindexter sailed us into a wormhole and we got stuck in another dimension.”

“If it counts,” Stanford said as he waved Soos’ hand away and stood up himself, “I wasn’t trying to get us sucked into a rip in the universe. I was merely trying to sail us close enough to observe.”

“Well, good job getting us sucked in.”

“Wait,” Soos said, breaking up a fight before it happened, “So if you sailed into the wormhole where is your boat?”

Stan and Ford froze, both of them staring at Soos before looking at each other.

“Well,” Ford said slowly, “I suppose it is… floating around the middle of the Atlantic.”

“He lost our boat,” Stan said, his mouth becoming a thin line. “I can’t believe it. He lost our boat!”

Soos glanced between them with a grimace on his face. He hadn’t meant to start this argument. He glanced back at the house and gave a small smile to his girlfriend while slowly backing away from the two bickering men.

“I’ll just…get you dudes something to drink.”

Stanley and Stanford didn’t seem to hear, too wrapped up in their discussion to notice Soos slip away towards the Shack.

“Stan,” Stanford said, trying to ease his brother’s worry, “This isn’t as bad as it seems.”

“Isn’t as bad as it seems?” Stan scoffed, “We just created a new North-Atlantic ghost ship.”

“I am sure we can call the coast guard or someone to go looking for our boat.”

Stan gave his brother a look, “And tell them what? We magically appeared in the Pacific Northwest while our ship is in the North Atlantic?”

Stanford frowned, his brother had a point there. Stan sighed, he pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“It is too early to be dealing with this,” he said, “I am going to take up Soos on that drink. You coming?”

“All we can do right now, huh?” Ford said.

Stan nodded and moved towards the Shack with his brother trailing behind him. Both of them thinking on the ship that was floating around the North Atlantic and the grateful feeling they had for being home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR READING.


End file.
